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Los  Angeles 


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PKOSE   WRITINGS   OF   BAYARD   TAYLOR, 

REVISED    EDITION. 


LANDS   OF   THE   SARACEN. 


THE 


LANDS  OF  THE  SARACENS; 


PICTURES  OF  PALESTINE,  ASIA  MINOR, 
SICILY  AND  SPAIN. 


By  BAYARLD  TAYOR. 


HOUSEHOLD   EDITION. 


NEW    YORK: 

G.    P.    PUTNAM'S     SONS, 

27  AND  29  West  23D  St. 

1SS6. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1855,  by 

G.  P.  PUTNAM, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Disti-ict  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 

District  of  New  York. 


COPTPJGHT, 

MARIE   TAYLOK, 
1883. 


T 


TO 


WASHINGTON   IRVING, 

Tbib  bocik— the  chronicle  of  my  travels  through  lands  once  occuple  1  ty  tbt 
Buracens— raturally  dediratos  itself  to  you,  who,  more  than  any  other  American 
author,  have  revived  the  traditions,  restored  the  history,  and  illustrated  the  tharactet 
ot  tnat  brilliant  and  heroic  people.  Your  cordial  cncourajci  i  !nt  confirmed  me  in  my 
desicn  of  visiting  the  East,  and  making  myself  familiar vrun  oriental  life;  and  though 
1  bring  you  now  but  imperfect  returns,  I  can  at  least  unite  with  yon  in  admiration  of  ■ 
field  80  rich  In  romantic  interest,  and  indulge  the  hope  that  I  may  one  day  pluck 
from  it  fruit  instead  of  blossoms.  In  Spain,  I  came  upon  your  track,  and  I  should 
hesit-ite  to  exhibit  my  own  gleanincs  where  you  have  harvested,  were  it  not  for  Iha 
belief  that  the  rapid  sketches  I  have  given  will  but  enhance,  by  the  contract,  tb« 
ehsnr.  of  your  Bnlehed  rictt">, 

BAYARD  TATLOB. 


P  R  E  r  A  C  E . 


Tfliy  Tolunie  comprises  the  second  porliou  of  a 
series  oi  travels,  of  which  the  "  Journey  to  Centkal 
Africa."  ab-eady  publislied,  is  the  first  part.  I  left 
home,  itiiending  to  spend  a  winter  in  Africa,  and  to 
return  during  the  following  summer ;  but  circumstan- 
ces afterwards  occurred,  which  prolonged  my  wan- 
derings to  nearly  two  years  and  a  half,  and  led  me  to 
visit  many  remote  and  unexplored  portions  of  the  globe. 
To  describe  this  journey  in  a  single  work,  would 
embrace  too  many  incongruous  elements,  to  say  nothing 
of  its  great  length,  and  as  it  falls  naturally  into  threo 
parts,  or  episodes,  of  very  distinct  character,  I  have 
judged  it  best  to  group  my  experiences  under  three 
separate  heads,  merely  indicating  the  links  which 
connect  them.  This  work  includes  my  travels  in  Pales- 
tine, Syria,  Asia  Minor,  Sicily  and  Spain,  and  will  bo 
followed  by  a  third  and  concluding  vobime,  containing 
my  adventures  in  India,  China,  the  Loo-Choo  Islands, 


\i  PREFACE . 

and  Japan,  Altliougli  many  of  tlie  letters,  contained  in 
this  volume,  describe  beaten  tracks  of  travel,  I  have 
always  given  my  own  individual  impressions,  and  may 
claim  for  them  the  merit  of  entire  sincerity.  The 
juurney  from  Aleppo  to  Constantinople,  through  the 
heai't  of  Asia  Minor,  illustrates  regions  rarely  traversed 
by  tourists,  and  wi;l,  no  doubt,  be  new  to  most  of  my 
readere.  My  aim,  thronghout  the  work,  has  been  to 
give  correct  pictures  of  Oriental  life  and  scenery,  leav- 
ing antiquarian  research  and  speculation  to  abler  hands. 
The  scholar,  or  the  man  of  science,  may  complain  with 
reason  that  I  have  neglected  valuable  opportunities  for 
adding  something  to  the  stock  of  human  knowledge  : 
but  if  a  few  of  the  many  thousands,  who  can  only  travel 
by  their  firesides,  should  find  my  pages  answer  the  pur- 
pose of  a  scries  of  cosmoramic  views — should  in  thera 
behold  with  a  clearer  inward  eye  the  hills  of  Pales- 
tine, the  sun-gilded  minarets  of  Damascus,  or  the  lonely 
pine-forests  of  Phrygia — should  feel,  by  turns,  some* 
thing  of  the  inspiration  and  the  indolence  of  the  Orient 
— I  shall  have  achieved  all  I  designed,  and  more  than 
I  can  justly  hope. 

Nhw  Vom,  OrtofiWy  1854. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

LIFE    IN    A     SYRIAN'    QUAEANTINE. 

Voya^  tt>in  Alexandria  to  Beyrout — Landing  at  Quarantine— The  GuErdlani>— Oui 
Quiirters — Our  Companions— Famine  and  Feasting — The  Morning — The  Holy  Man  nf 
Timbuctoo— Sunday  in  Quarantine — Islamism — We  are  Registered — Love  through  a 
Grating— Trumpets— The  Mystery  Explained— Delights  of  Quarantine— OrientrJ  vn 
American  Exaggeration— A  Discussion  of  Politics— Our  Reh-ase- Beyrout — Prepara 
tlons  for  the  Pilgrimage 17 

CHAPTER    II. 

TDK    COAST    OP    PALESTINE. 

rhe  Pilgrimage  Commences — The  Muleteers — The  Mules — The  Donkey — Journey  to 
Sidon— The  Foot  of  Ltbanon— Pictures— The  Ruins  of  Tyre— A  Wild  Morning— The 
Tyrlan  Surges — Climbing  the  Ladder  of  Tyre— Panorama  of  the  Bay  of  Acre— The 
Plain  of  Ksdraelon— Camp  In  a  Garden— Acre— the  Shore  of  the  Bay— Haifa— Mount 
Carracl  and  Its  Monastery — A  Deserted  Coast — The  Ruins  of  Ccesarea — The  Scenery 
of  Pabstine — We  become  Robbers — El  Haram — Wrecks— the  Harbor  and  Town  of 
Jaffa m 

CHAPTER    III. 
FROM    JAFFA    TO    JERUSALEM. 

The  Garden  of  Jaffa — Breakfast  at  a  Fauntain — The  Plain  of  Sliaron — The  RulneJ 
Musque  of  Ramleh — A  Judean  Landscape — The  Streets       Bamleh — Am  I  In  PaJe*- 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

tine  7 — A  Heavenly  Morning — The  Land  of  Milk  and  Honey — Entering  the  HIIS 
Country — The  Pilgrim's  Breakfast — The  Father  of  Lies — A  Church  of  the  Crusaders 
— The  Agriculture  of  the  Hills— The  Valley  of  Hah— Day-Dreams — The  Wilderness 
— Ttc  Approach— We  See  tte  Holy  City        .  IS 

CHAPTER    IV. 

fUE    DEAD    SEA    AND    THE    RIVEll    JORDAN 

Bargaining  for  a  Guard— Departure  from  Jerusalem — The  Hill  of  Offence— Bethany— 
The  Grotto  of  Lazarus — The  Valley  of  Fire — Scenery  of  the  Wilderness — The  Hills  ol 
EngaJIi — The  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea — A  Bituminous  Bath — Qaliop  lo  the  jorJan— 
A  watch  for  Robbers — The  Jordan — Baptism — The  Plains  of  Jericho — The  Fountain 
of  £lish»--The  Mount  of  Temptation — Keturn  to  Jerusalem         ....        6^1 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE     CITY     OF     OHKIST. 

Modern  Jerusalem — The  Site  of  the  City — Mount  Zion — Mount  Moriah — The  Temple— 
The  Valley  of  Jehosaphat — The  Olives  of  Gethsemane — The  Mount  of  Olives — Moslem 
Tradition — Panorama  from  the  Summit — The  Interior  of  the  City — The  Population — 
Missions  and  Missionaries — Christianity  in  Jerusalem — Intolerance — The  Jews  of 
Jerusalem — The  Face  of  Christ — The  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre — The  Holy  of 
Holies — The  Sacred  Localities — Visions  of  Christ — The  Mosque  of  Omar — The  Holy 
Man  of  Timbuctoo— Preparations  for  Departure   .        .  ....        IS 

CHAPTER   VI. 

TOE     HILL-COCNTRT     OF     PALESTINE. 

Leavini!  Jerusalem — The  Tombs  of  the  Kings— El  Bireh — The  Hill-CouDtry— Pira' 
View  of  Mount  Hermon — The  Tomb  of  Joseph — Ebal  and  Geriiim — The  Gardens  of 
Nablous — The  Samaritans — The  Sacred  Book — A  Scene  in  the  Synagogue — Mentol 
and  Telemachus — Ride  to  Samaria — The  Ruins  of  Sebaste — Scriptural  Landscapes  — 
Ualt  at  Genin — The  Plain  of  Esd.-aelon — Palestine  and  California-  -The  Hills  of 
Naza,-elh — Accident— Fra  Joachim-  The  Church  of  the  Virgin— The  Shrine  of  the 
Aonunciation — The  Holy  Places    .  Si 

CHAPTER   VII. 

THE     COUNTRY    OF    GALILEE. 

Departure  from  Nazareth— A  Christian  GulJe — Ascent  of  Mount  Tabor— 'Wallachlan 
Hermits— The  Panorama  of  Tabor— Ride  to  Tiberias— A  Bath  in  Genesareth- Th« 


CONTENTS.  IX 

riowerg  of  Galilee — The  Mount  of  Beatitude— Magdala — Joseph's  VTell— Meetlii^ 
with  a  Turk— The  Fountaia  of  the  Salt-Worii3 — The  Upper  Valley  of  the  Jordan  — 
Boromer  flcenery- The  Rivers  of  Lebanou— Tell  el-Kadi- An  Arcadian  Kegion— Th« 
Potulaliia  of  Baulaa .100 


CHAPTER    VIII. 
OROSSINO     TUB    A  NT  ."-LEBANON 

the  Harmless  Ouard — Caesarea  PhlllppI— The  Valley  of  the  Druses  -The  S'.des  of  Mount 
Hermon — An  Alarm — Threading  a  Defile — Distant  view  of  Djcbel  Hauaran — Another 
Alaro — Camp  at  Katana — We  Ride  Into  Damascus 119 

CHAPTER  IX. 

PIOTDRES    OP    DAMASCUS. 

Damascus  from  the  Anti-Lebanon — Entering  the  City — A  Diorama  of  Bazaars — An 
Oriental  Hotel — Our  Chamber — The  Bazaars — Pipes  and  Coffee — The  Rivers  of 
Damascaa — Palaces  of  the  Jews — Jewish  Ladies — A  Christian  Gentleman — The  Sacred 
Localitie* — Damascus  Blades — The  Sword  of  llaroun  Al-Raschid — An  Arrival  fron: 
PalmjTA 120 

CHAPTER   X. 
THB    VISIONS    OF    U  A  3  II  E  E  3  U  .— 133 

CHAPTER    XI. 

A    DISSERTATION    ON     BATHINO    AND    BODIES. —  Liit 

CHAPTER   XII. 

BAALBEO    AND    LEBANON. 

Departure  from  Damascus — The  Fountains  of  the  Pharpar — Pass  of  tte  Anti-Lebanon— 
Adventure  with  the  Druses — Tlie  Range  of  Lebanon — The  Demon  of  Hashcesb 
departs — Impressions  of  Baalbec — The  Temple  of  the  Sun — Titanic  Masonry— The 
Ruined  Mosque — Camp  on  Lebanon — Rascality  of  the  Guide — The  Summit  of  Lebanon 
— The  Sacred  Cedars— The  Christians  of  Lebanon— An  Aftornoon  In  Eden — Rugge4 
Travel— We  Reach  tlio  Coast— R.'turn  tr  Beyrout        .  ...        '-67 

1* 


*•  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

»•  I  P  E  3      AND      C  0  F  K  K  E.  — 178 

CDAPTEIl    XIV. 

JODKNEY    TO    ANTIOCH    AND    ALEPPO. 

Ohauge  of  Plan  J — Routes  to  Baghdad — Asia  Minor — We  sail  from  Beyrout — TachtlDj 
OD  tlie  Syrian  Coast — Tartus  and  Lataliiyeli — The  Coasts  of  Syria — The  Bay  of  Sne- 
diah — The  Mouth  of  the  Orootes — Landing — The  Garden  of  Syria — Ride  to  Antiocta 
— The  Modern  City — The  Plains  of  the  Orontes — Remains  of  the  Greelc  Empire — Th« 
Ancieut  Road — The  Plain  of  Keftiu — Approach  to  Aleppo  .       ...        180 

CnAPTER  XV. 

LIFE      IN      ALEPPO. 

Dur  Entry  into  Aleppo— We  are  conducted  to  a  House — Our  Unexpected  Welcome- -The 
Mystery  Explained — Aleppo — Its  Name — Its  Situation — The  Trade  of  Aleppo — Ths 
Christians — The  Revolt  of  1S50— Present  Appearance  of  the  City — Visit  to  Osman 
Pasha — The  Citadel — View  from  ihe  Battlements — Society  in  Aleppo— Etiquette  and 
Costume — Jewish  Marriage  Festivities — A  Christian  Marriage  Procession-  Ride 
around  the  Town — Nightingales — The  Aleppo  Button — A  Hospital  for  Oats — Ferhat 
Fasha     .       .       .      , 188 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

TUBOUGU     TUB    SYRIAN     GATES 

in  Inauspicious  Departure — The  Ruined  Church  of  St.  Sim»n — The  Platn  of  Antlocb — A 
Turcoman  Encampment — Climbing  Alcma  Dagh — The  Syrian  Gates — Scanderoon — An 
American  Captain— Revolt  of  the  Koords- We  take  a  Guard— The  Field  of  Isbus — 
The  Robber-Chief,  Kutchuk  Ali— A  Deserted  Town— A  Land  of  Gardens  .        .        Vlfl 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

ADANA      AND     TARSUS. 

rhe  Black  Gate— The  Plain  of  Cilicla— A  Koord  Village — Missis — Cillclan  Scenery- 
Arrival  at  Adana — Three  days  in  Quarantine — We  receive  Pratique — A  Landscane— 
The  Plain  of  Tarsus — The  Rivei  Cydnus — A  Vision  of  Cleopatra — Tarsus  and  Itl 
Environs  —The  DuniManh — The  Moon  of  Ramazan  .  ...        226 


CONiaNTS.  xl 

CHAPTER  XV  III. 

T  II  K     PASS    OF    MOUNT     TAURUS. 

Wo  enter  tho  Taurus— Turcomans— Forest  Scenery— tlie  Palace  of  Pan— Khac  Meiar 
liik— Morning  among  the  Mountains— The  Goree  of  the  Oydnus— The  Crag  ot  th« 
Fortress— The  Ciliciun  Gate— Deserted  Forts— A  Sublime  Landscape— The  Gorge  of  th« 
Sihoon- The  Second  Gate— Camp  in  the  Defile— Sunrise— Journey  up  the  Silicon —A 
Change  of  Scenery— A  Pastoral  Vallty— Kolu  Kushla— A  Deserted  Khan— A  Guest  Id 
Ramaian- Flowers— The  Plain  of  Karamanla— Barren  Uilla— The  Town  of  Eregli— 
The  Uailji  again 23< 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE    PLAINS     OP     K  A  11  A  M  A  X  I  A  . 

The  Plains  of  Karamanla— Afternoon  Iloat — A  Well — Volcanic  Phenoraona — Kara- 
uiauia— A  Grand  Ruined  Khan— Moonlight  Picture — A  Landscape  of  the  Plains — 
Mirages— A  Short  Interview— The  Village  of  Israll— Third  Day  on  the  Plains— 
Auproacb  to  Roma 250 

CHAPTER    XX. 

S  0  K  N  K  3     IN     K  0  N I  A . 

Approach  to  Konla— Tomb  of  Ilazret  Mevlana — Lodgings  in  a  Khan — An  American 
Luxury— A  Night-Scene  in  Ramazan— Prayers  in  the  Mosque — Remains  of  the 
Ancient  City— View  from  the  Mosque— The  Interior— A  Leaning  Minaret— Th« 
Diverting  Uistory  of  the  Muleteers 2M 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE     II  K  A  K  T    OF     ASIA     MINOR. 

Scenery  of  the  Hills— Ladik,  the  Ancient  Laodicea— The  Plague  of  6ad-Flle»-  Camp  al 
Dgun— A  Natural  Warm  Bath— The  Gad-Flies  Again— A  Summer  Landsiape— Ak- 
Shehcr— The  Dase  of  Sultan  Dagh— The  Fountain  of  Midas— A  Drowsy  Journey— 
The  TowK  of  Bulawadfln 26C 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE    FORESTS    OF    PHRTOXA. 

TheTrontier  of  Phrygla— Ancifnl  Quarries  and  Tombs— We  Enter  the  Pine  ?opei«t»-i 
Guard- House — Eucanipmcnts  of  the  Turcomans— Pastoral  Scenery— A  Summer  Vlh 


KU  CONTENTS 

lage— The  Valley  of  the  Tombs— Rock  Sepulchres  of  the  Plirygian  Kings— The  Titan'j 
Camp — Tlie  Valley  of  Kurabeh— A  Land  of  Flowers — Turcoman  Hos}  itality — The 
Exiled  Effendis — The  Old  Turcoman— A  Glimpse  of  Aicadia — A  Landscape — Inter- 
ested Friendship— The  Valley  of  the  Pursek— Arrival  at  Kiutahya   ...        271 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

KICTAHTA,    AND    TUE    RUINS     OF    CEZANI. 

Entrance  into  Kiutahya— The  New  Khan— An  Unpleasant  Discovery— Kiutahya— Tha 
Citadel  — Panorama  from  the  Walls — The  Gorge  of  the  Mountains— Camp  in  a 
Meadow— The  Valley  »f  the  Rhyndacus- Chavdur — The  Ruins  of  (Ezani— The  Acro- 
polis and  Temple— The  Theatre  and  Stadium— Ride  down  the  Valley— Camp  at  Daghj« 
Kol 290 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE    MTSIAN    OLYMPUS. 

Journey  Down  the  Valley — The  Plague  of  Grasshoppers — A  Defile — The  Town  of  Tan- 
ohanlii — The  Camp  of  Famine — We  leave  the  Rhyndacus — The  Base  of  Olympus- 
Primeval  Forests — The  Guard-House — Scenery  of  the  Summit — Forests  of  Beech— 
Saw-Mills — Descent  of  the  Mountain — The  View  of  Olympus — Morning— The  Land  of 
Harvest — Aineghiol — A  Showery  Ride — The  Plain  of  Brousa — The  Structure  of  Olym- 
pus— We  reach  Brousa — The  Tent  is  Furled 80C 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

BROUSA    AND    TUE    SEA    OF    MARMORA. 

Pfce  City  of  Brousa — Return  to  Civiliiation — Storm — The  Kalputcha  Uammam — A  Hot 
Bath — A  Foretaste  of  Parndise — The  Streets  and  Bazaars  of  Brousa — The  Mosque — 
The  Tombs  of  the  Ottoman  Sultans — Disappearance  of  the  Katurgees — We  start  foi 
Moudania — The  Sea  of  Marmora — Moudania — Passport  Difficulties — A  Greek  Caique 
— Breakfast  with  the  Fishermen— A  Torrid  Voyage — The  Princes'  Islands— Prlnkipo— 
Distant  View  of  Constantinople — We  enter  the  Golden  Horn    ....        013 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE    NIGUT    OF    PREDESTINATION. 

OoafitaDlluo|)]e  in  Ramazan— The  Origin  of  the  Fast— Nightly  Illuminations— The  Nighl 
of  Predestination— The  Golden    Horn   at   Night— Llumination   of  the  Shores— Tb< 


CONTENTS.  \\U 

Cannon  of  Constantinople— A  Fiery  Panorama— The  Sultan's  Caique — Cloae  of  tin 
Celebration- A  TurWieh  Mob— The  Dancing  Dervishes      ....  894 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 

THE    SOLEMNITIES     OF    HAIKAM. 

ThR  Appearance  of  the  New  Moon— The  Festival  of  Bairam— The  Interior  of  thfl 
Seraglio— The  I'omp  of  the  Sultan's  Court— Reschid  Pasha— The  Sultan's  Dwarf- 
Arabian  Stallions— The  Imperial  Guard — Appeaiance  of  the  Sultan — The  Inner  Court 
— Return  of  the  Procession— The  Sultan  on  his  Throne — The  llomage  of  the  Pashas 
—An  Oriental  Picture— Kissing  the  Scarf— The  Shekh  el-Islam- The  Descendant  of 
the  Caliphs — Bairam  Commences         ,. 88£ 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE     MOSQUES    OK    CONSTANTINOPLE. 

B<Uourn  at  Constantinople — Semi-European  Character  of  the  City — The  Mosque — Pro- 
curing a  Firman— The  Seraglio— The  Library— The  Ancient  Throne-Room— Admit 
laijce  to  St.  Sophia— Magnificence  of  the  Interior— The  Marvellous  Dome— The 
Mosque  of  Saltan  Achmed— The  Sulemanye — Great  Conflagrations— Political  Mean- 
ing of  the  Fires— Turkish  Progress— Decay  of  the  Ottoman  Power  .        .        ,        S4S 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 

FAREWELL    TO     TUE     ORIEN  T — M  A  L  T  A  . 

Cnbarcatlon — Farewell  to  the  Orient — Leaving  Constantinople — A  Wreck — The  Dar- 
danelles— Homeric  Scenery — Smyrna  Revisited — The  Grecian  Isles — Voyage  to  Malta 
-Detention— La  Valetla— The  Maltese— The  Climate— A  Boat  for  Sicily    .      .      360 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE     FESTIVAL    OF    ST.    AGATHA. 

D«i'arture  from  Malta — The  Speronara — Our  Fellow-Passengers — The  First  Night  on 
Board — Sicily — Scarcity  of  Provisions — Beating  in  the  Calabrian  Channel — The 
Fourth  Morning — The  Gulf  of  Catania — A  Sicilian  Landscape — The  Anchorage — Th« 
Suspected  List— The  Streets  of  Catania— Biography  of  St.  Agatha— The  Illuminations 
— The  Procession  of  the  Veil — The  Biscari  Palace — The  Auliquitles  of  Cutanis-  The 
OonTent  of  St.  Nicola    ...  S6.« 


X17  CONTENTS. 

CU  AFTER   XXXI. 

T  U  E     E  K  U  )•  T  I  0  >J    OF    MOUNT    E  T  N  >  . 

Tlie  Mountain  Threatens — The  Signs  Increase — We  Leave  Cutania — Gardens  Amona; 
tbo  I^ava — Etna  Labors — Acl  Keale — The  Groans  of  Etna — The  Eruption — Gigantic 
Tree  of  Smoke — Formation  of  the  New  Crater— We  Lose  Sight  of  the  Mountain — Arrival 
at  Messina — Etna  Is  Obscured — Departure  ....•.••        8H 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 

GIBRALTAR. 

Unwritten  Links  of  Travel — Departure  from  Southampton — The  Bay  of  Biscay— Cintra 
— Trafalgar — Gibraltar  at  Midnight — Landing — Search  for  a  Palm-Tree — A  Brilliant 
Morning— The  Convexity  of  the  Earth— Sun-Worship— The  Rock    .       .  8Sa 

CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

CADIZ    A  N'  I)   SEVILLE. 

Voyag5  to  Cadiz — Landing — The  City— Its  Streets — Tlie  Women  of  Cadiz — Embarkj- 
tiou  for  Seville — Scenery  of  the  Guadalquivir — Custom  House  Examination — The 
Guide— The  Streets  of  Seville— The  Giralda— The  Cathedral  of  Seville— The  Alcazar- 
Moorish  Architecture — Pilate's  House — Morning  View  from  the  Giralda — Old  Wine — 
Murillos — My  Last  Evening  in  Seville ...        iiiil 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

JOURNEY     IN    A    SPANISH     DILIOENCK. 

Bpanish  Diligence  Lines — Leaving  Seville — An  Unlucky  Start — Alcali  of  the  Bakers — 
Dinner  at  Carraona — A  Dehesa--The  Mayoral  and  his  Team — Ecija — Night  Journey 
— Cordova — The  Calhedral-Mosque — Moorish  Architecture — The  Sierra  Morena — A 
Bainy  Journey — A  Chapter  of  Accidents — Baylen — The  Fascination  of  Spain — Jien 
— Tho  Vega  of  Granada       ...  402 

CHAPTER    XXXV. 

ORANADA  AND  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Mateo  Xlmenez,  the  Younger- The  Cathedral  of  Granada— A  Monkish  Miracle — CatliolU 
Sbrlnes— Military  Cherubs — Tlie  Kojal  Chapel— The  Tombs  of  Ferdinand  and  Is& 


CONTENTS.  X^ 

b«Uii— Chapel  of  San  Juan  de  Dios— The  Albaycin— View  oi  the  Vega— Tlie  Gcneralire- 
Thc  Alliambra— Toira  de  la  Vela— The  Walla  and  Towers— A  Visit  to  Old  Mateo- 
Tlie  Court  of  the  Fish-poud— The  Halls  of  the  Alhambra— Character  of  the  Architec- 
titre— Ilallcf  Iho  Abcncerrages— Hall  of  the  Two  Sifters— The  Moorish  Dynasty  \t 


ei>aJn 


4U 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

THE    BUIDL  E-R  OADS    OF    ANDALUSIA. 

3ha:igO  of  Weather— Napoleon  and  his  Horses— Departure  from  Granada— My  Guld«>, 
Jos6  Garcia- His  Domestic  Troubles— The  Tragedy  of  the  Umbrella— The  Vow  against 
Aguardiente— Crossing  the  Vega— The  Sierra  Nevada— The  Baths  of  Alliaraa— "  Wn« 
Is  Me,  Alhamal"— The  Valley  of  the  River  Veles—Velez  Malaga— The  Coast  Road- 
The  Fisherman  and  his  Donkey— Malaga— Summer  Scenery— The  Story  of  Don  Pedro, 
without  Fear  and  without  Care— The  Field  of  Monda— A  Lonely  Venta    .        .        49^ 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

THE     MOUNTAINS     OP     PON  DA. 

Dranga  Valleys— Climbing  the  Mountains— Jo36'3  Hospitality- F,l  Burgo— The  Gate  of 
•Jie  Wind— The  Cliff  and  Cascades  of  Ronda— The  Mountain  Region— Traces  of  the 
jloors— Haunts  of  Robbers— A  Stormy  Ride — The  Inn  at  Gaucin— Bad  Newd-A 
Boyish  Auxiliary— Descent  from  the  Mountains — The  Fcrd  of  the  Ouad-aro— Our 
Fears  Relieve<l— The  Cork  Woods— Uide  from  Ban  Booue  to  Gibraltar- Parting  cith 
Jo86— TraTelUnj;  in  BpUn— Oonoluuion       ........       ^ 


THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 


CHAPTER    I. 

LIFE     IN    A    SYRIAN      QUARANTINE. 

o>age  from  Alexandria  to  Beyrout — Landing  at  Quarantine — The  Guardiano — Om 
Quarters — Our  Companions — Famine  and  Feasting — The  Morning — The  Holy  Man  of 
Timbuctoo — Sunday  in  Quarantine — Islamism — We  are  Registered — Love  through  a 
Grating — Trumpets — Tiie  Mystery  Explained — Delights  of  Quarantine — Oriental  va. 
American  Exaggeration — A  Discussion  of  Politics — Our  Release — Beyrout — Prepara- 
tions (or  Ibe  Pilgrimage. 

"The  mountains  look  on  Quarantine, 
And  Quarantine  looks  on  the  sea." 

QUARANTISS     MS. 

In  QtTARASriNK,  Bktroct,  I 

SiUiintiiif,  April  IT,   1S52.  l" 

Everybody  has  heard  of  Quarantine,  but  in  our  favored  coun- 
try there  are  mauy  uutravellcd  persons  wlio  do  not  precisely 
know  what  it  is,  and  who  no  doubt  wonder  wliy  it  should  be 
su(;h  a  bugbear  to  travellers  in  the  Orient.  I  confess  I  aia 
still  somewhat  in  the  same  predicament  myself,  although 
I  have  already  been  twenty-four  hours  in  Quarantine. 
Rut,  as  a  peculiarity  of  the  place  i.-^,  that  one  can  do  nothing, 
however  good  a  will  he  has,  T  propose  to  set  down  ray  expe- 
riences each  day,  hoping  that  I  and  my  readers  may  obtain 


18  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SAKACEX. 

Bome  insight  into  the  nature  of  Quarantine,  before  the  terra  of 
my  probation  is  over. 

I  left  Alexandria  on  the  afternoon  of  the  14th  inst.,  in  com 
pany  with  Mr.  Carter  Harrison,  a  fellow-countryman,  who  had 
joined  me  in  Cairo,  for  the  tour  through  Palestine.  We  had  a 
head  whid  and  rough  sea,  atd  I  remained  in  a  tor})id 
state  during  most  of  the  voyage.  There  was  rain  the  second 
night ;  but,  when  the  clouds  cleared  away  yesterday  morning, 
we  were  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  Lebanon,  whose  summits 
glittered  with  streaks  of  snow.  The  lower  slopes  of  the  moun- 
tains were  green  with  fields  and  forests,  and  Beyrout,  when 
we  ran  up  to  it,  seemed  buried  almost  out  of  sight,  in  the  foli- 
age of  its  mulberry  groves.  The  town  is  built  along  thu 
northern  side  of  a  peninsula,  which  projects  about  two  miles 
from  the  main  line  of  the  coast,  forming  a  road  for  vessels.  In 
half  an  hour  after  our  arrival,  several  large  boats  came  along- 
side,  and  we  were  told  to  get  our  baggage  in  order  and 
embark  for  Quarantine.  The  time  necessary  to  purify  a  tra- 
veller arriving  from  Egypt  from  suspicion  of  the  plague,  is  five 
days,  but  the  days  of  arrival  and  departure  are  counted,  so 
that  the  durance  amounts  to  but  three  full  days.  The  captain 
of  the  Osiris  mustered  the  passengers  together,  and  informed 
them  that  each  one  would  be  obliged  to  pay  six  piastres  for 
the  transportation  of  himself  and  his  baggage  Two  heavy 
lighters  are  now  drawn  up  to  the  foot  of  the  gangway,  but  aa 
poon  as  the  first  box  tumbles  into  them,  the  men  tumble  out. 
I^iey  attach  the  craft  by  cables  to  two  smaller  boats,  in 
which  they  sit,  to  tow  the  infected  loads.  We  are  all  seat 
down  together,  Jews,  Turks,  and  Christians — a  confused  pile 
of  men,    women,   cliildren,   and   goods.     A   little   boat   frona 


1^N"DIXG     AT     QDAKAXTINE.  19 

the  city,  in  wliich  there  are  representatives  from  the  twc 
hotels,  hovers  around  us,  and  cards  are  thrown  to  us.  Tlie 
zealous  agents  wish  to  supply  us  immediately  with  tables, 
beds,  and  all  other  household  appliances;  but  we  decline  their 
help  until -we  arrive  at  the  mysterious  spot.  At  last  we  float 
off — two  lighters  full  of  infected,  though  respectable,  material, 
towed  by  oarsmen  of  most  scurvy  appearance,  but  free  from 
every  suspicion  of  taint. 

The  sea  is  still  rough,  the  sun  is  hot,  and  a  fat  Jewess 
becomes  sea-sick.  An  Italian  Jew  rails  at  the  boatmen  ahead, 
in  the  Neapolitan  patois,  for  the  distance  is  long,  the  Quaran- 
tine being  on  the  land- side  of  Beyrout.  We  see  the  rows  of 
little  yellow  houses  on  the  cliff,  and  with  great  apparent  risk 
of  being  swept  upon  the  breakers,  are  tugged  into  a  small  cove, 
where  there  is  a  landing-place.  Nobody  is  there  to  receive  us; 
the  boatmen  jump  into  the  water  and  push  the  l:ghters  against 
the  stone  stairs,  while  we  uidoad  our  own  baggage.  A  tin 
cup  filled  witli  sea-water  is  placed  before  us,  and  we  each  drop 
six  piastres  into  it — for  money,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  is  infec* 
tious.  By  this  time,  the  guardianos  have  had  notice  of  our 
arrival,  and  we  go  up  with  them  to  choose  our  habitations 
There  are  several  rows  of  one-story  houses  overlooking  the  sea, 
each  containing  two  empty  rooms,  to  be  had  for  a  hundred 
piastres;  but  a  square  two-story  d\\ elling  stands  apart  from 
them,  and  the  whole  of  it  may  be  had  for  thrice  that  sum. 
There  are  seven  Frank  prisoners,  and  we  take  it  for  ourselves. 
But  the  rooms  are  bare,  the  kitchen  empty,  and  we  learc  the 
important  fact,  that  Quarantine  is  durance  vile,  without  even 
the  bread  and  water.  The  guardiano  says  the  agents  ot  the 
hotel  arc  at  the  gate,  and  we  can  order  from  them  whuteve» 


20  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACE>r. 

vii  want.  Ccrtaiuly;  but  at  their  own  price,  for  we  are  wholly 
at  their  mercy.  However,  we  go  down  stairs,  and  the  chief 
officer,  who  accompanies  us,  gets  into  a  corner  as  we  pass,  and 
holds  a  stick  before  him  to  keep  us  off.  He  is  now  clean,  but 
if  his  garments  brush  against  ours,  he  is  lost.  The  people  we 
meet  in  the  grounds  step  aside  with  great  respect  to  let  us  pass, 
but  if  we  offer  them  our  hands,  no  one  would  dare  to  touch  a 
finger's  tip. 

Here  is  the  gate  :  a  double  screen  of  wire,  with  an  interval 
between,  so  that  contact  is  impossible.  There  is  a  crowd  of 
individuals  outside,  all  anxious  to  execute  commissions.  Among 
them  is  the  agent  of  the  hotel,  who  proposes  to  fill  our  bare 
rooms  with  furniture,  send  us  a  servant  and  cook,  and  charge 
us  the  same  as  if  we  lodged  with  him.  The  bargain  is  closed 
at  once,  and  he  hurries  off  to  make  the  arrangements.  It  is 
DOW  four  o'clock,  and  the  bracing  air  of  the  headland  gives  a 
terrible  appetite  to  those  of  us  who,  Hkc  me,  have  been  sea- 
Bick  and  fasting  for  forty-eight  hours.  But  there  is  no  food 
within  the  Quarantine  except  a  patch  of  green  wheat,  and  a 
well  in  the  limestone  rock.  We  two  Americans  join  company 
with  our  room-mate,  an  Alexandrian  of  Italian  parentage,  who 
has  come  to  Beyrout  to  be  married,  and  make  the  tour  of  oui 
territory.  There  is  a  path  along  the  cliffs  overhanging  the  sea, 
with  glorious  views  of  Lebanon,  up  to  his  snowy  top,  the  pine- 
forests  at  his  base,  and  the  long  cape  whereon  the  city  lies  at 
full  length,  reposing  beside  the  waves.  The  Mahommedans 
and  Jews,  in  companies  of  ten  (to  save  expense),  are  lodged 
in  the  smaller  dwellings,  where  they  have  already  aroused  mil- 
lions of  fleas  from  their  state  of  torpid  expectancy.  We 
r^-turn,  and  take  a  survey  of  our  companions  in  the  pavilion  :  a 


FAMINE     AND     FEASTING.  21 

French  woman,  with  two  ugly  and  peevish  children  (one  at  the 
breast),  in  the  next  room,  and  three  French  gentlemen  in  the 
other — a  merchant,  a  young  mau  with  hair  of  extraordinary 
length,  and  a  filaleur,  or  silk-manufacturer,  middle-aged  and 
cynical.  The  first  is  a  gentleman  in  every  sense  of  the  word, 
the  latter  endurable,  but  the  young  Absalom  is  my  aversion, 
I  am  subject  to  involuntary  likings  and  dislikings,  for  which  I 
can  give  no  reason,  and  though  the  man  may  be  in  every  way 
amiable,  his  presence  is  very  distasteful  to  me. 

We  take  a  pipe  of  consolation,  but  it  only  whets  our  appe- 
tites. We  give  up  our  promenade,  for  exercise  is  still  worse  ; 
and  at  last  the  sun  goes  down,  and  yet  no  sign  of  dinner.  Our 
pavilion  becomes  a  Tower  of  Famine,  and  the  Italian  recites 
Dante.  Finally  a  strange  face  appears  at  the  door.  By  Api- 
cius  !  it  is  a  servant  from  the  hotel,  with  iron  bedsteads,  camp- 
tables,  and  some  large  chests,  which  breathe  an  odor  of  the 
Commissary  Department,  We  go  stealthily  down  to  the 
kitchen,  and  watch  the  unpacking.  Our  dinner  is  there,  sure 
enough,  but  alas  I  it  is  not  yet  cooked.  Patience  is  no  more  • 
my  companion  manages  to  filch  a  raw  onion  and  a  crust  ol 
bread,  which  we  share,  and  roll  under  our  tongues  as  a  sweet 
morsel,  and  it  gives  us  strength  for  another  hour.  The  Greek 
dragoman  and  cook,  who  are  sent  into  Quarantine  for  our  sakes, 
take  compassion  on  us  ;  the  fires  are  kindled  in  the  cold 
furnaces  ;  savory  steams  creep  up  the  stairs  ;  the  preparations 
Increase,  and  finally  climax  in  the  rapturous  announcement : 
'*  Messieurs,  dinner  is  ready."  The  soup  is  liquified  bliss  ;  the 
KttzUttes  d'agiieau  are  cotekttes  de  honheur  ;  and  as  for  that  broad 
'Jish  of  Syi'ian  larks — Heaven  Kirgive  us  the  regret,  that  more 
Bongs  had  not  been  silenced  for  our  sake  I     The  meal  is  al' 


22  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

nectar  a'jfl  ambrosia,  and  now,  filled  and  contented,  we  subside 
intc  sleep  on  comfortable  couches.  So  closes  the  first  day  of 
our  incarceration. 

This  morning  dawned  clear  and  beautiful.  Lebanon,  except 
Ilia  snowy  crest,  was  wrapped  in  the  early  shadows,  but  tlie 
Mediterranean  gleamed  like  a  shield  of  sapphire,  and  Beyrout, 
sculptured  against  the  background  of  its  mulberry  groves,  was 
glorified  beyond  all  other  cities.  The  turf  around  our  pavilion 
fairly  blazed  with  the  splendor  of  the  yellow  daisies  and  crim- 
son poppies  that  stud  it.  I  was  satisfied  with  what  I  saw,  and 
felt  no  wish  to  leave  Quarantine  to-day.  Our  Italian  friend, 
however,  is  more  impatient.  His  betrothed  came  early  to  see 
him,  and  we  were  edified  by  the  great  alacrity  with  which  he 
hastened  to  the  grate,  to  renew  his  vows  at  two  yards'  distance 
from  her.  In  the  meantime,  I  went  down  to  the  Turkish 
houses,  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  a  singular  character  I 
met  on  board  the  steamer.  lie  is  a  negro  of  six  feet  four, 
dressed  in  a  long  scarlet  robe.  His  name  is  Mahommed 
Senoosee,  and  he  is  a  fakeer,  or  holy  man,  from  Timbuctoo. 
Ue  has  been  two  years  absent  from  home,  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca  and  Medina,  and  is  now  on  his  way  to  Jerusalem  and 
Damascus.  He  has  travelled  extensively  in  all  parts  of  Cen- 
tral Africa,  from  Dar-Fur  to  Ashantee,  and  professes  to  be  on 
ijood  terms  with  the  Sultans  of  Houssa  and  Bornou.  He  has 
even  been  in  the  great  kingdom  of  Waday,  which  has  never 
been  explored  by  Europeans,  and  as  far  south  as  lola,  the  capi- 
tal of  Adaraowa.  Of  the  correctness  of  his  narrations  I  have 
not  the  least  doubt,  as  they  correspond  geographically  witli  all 
that  we  know  of  the  interior  of  Africa.  In  answer  to  my 
question  whether  a  European  might  safely  make  the  same  tour, 


aONDAT     IN     QUARANTINE.  23 

he  replied  that  there  would  be  no  difficulty,  provided  He  was 
accompaaied  by  a  native,  and  he  offered  to  take  me  even  to 
Timbuctoo,  if  I  would  return  with  him.  He  was  very  curioua 
to  obtain  information  about  America,  and  made  notes  of  all 
that  I  told  him,  in  the  quaint  character  used  by  the  Mughreb- 
bins,  or  Arabs  of  the  West,  which  has  considerable  resem- 
blance  to  the  ancient  Cufic.  He  wishes  to  join  company  with 
me  for  the  journey  to  Jerusalem,  and  perhaps  I  shall  accept 
him. 

Sunday,  April  18. 

As  Quarantine  is  a  sort  of  limbo,  without  the  pale  of  civi- 
lized society,  we  have  no  church  service  to-day.  We  have 
done  the  best  we  could,  however,  in  sending  one  of  the  outside 
dragomen  to  purchase  a  Bible,  in  which  we  succeeded.  He 
brought  us  a  very  handsome  copy,  printed  by  the  American 
Bible  Society  in  New  York.  I  tried  vainly  in  Cairo  and  Alex- 
andria to  find  a  missionary  who  would  supply  my  heathenish 
destitution  of  the  Sacred  Writings;  for  I  had  reached  the  East 
through  Austria,  where  they  are  prohibited,  and  to  travel 
through  Palestine  without  them,  would  be  like  sailing  without 
pilot  or  compass.  It  gives  a  most  impressive  reality  to  Solo- 
mon's "  house  of  the  forest  of  Lebanon,"  when  you  can  look  up 
from  the  page  to  those  very  forests  and  those  grand  mountains, 
"  excellent  with  the  cedars,"  Seeing  the  holy  man  of  Timbuo 
too  praying  with  his  face  towards  Mecca,  I  went  down  to  him, 
auc'  we  conversed  for  a  long  time  on  religious  matters,  lie  is 
tolerably  well  informod,  having  read  the  Books  of  Moses  and 
the>  Psalms  of  David,  but,  like  all  Mahommedans,  his  ideas  of 
religion  consist  mainly  of  forms,  and  its  reward  is  a  sensual 
paradise.     The  more  intelligent  of  the  Moslems  give  a  spiritual 


24  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SAIUOEN. 

interpretation  to  tlie  nature  of  the  Heaven  promised  by  the 

Proplict,  and  I  have  licavd  several  openly  confess  tlieir  disbe- 
lief in  the  seventy  houries  and  the  palaces  of  pearl  and  emerald 
Shekh  Mahommed  Senoosee  scarcely  ever  utters  a  sentence  in 
which  is  not  the  word  "Allah,"  and  "La  illah  iP  Allah"  is 
repeated  at  least  every  five  minutes.  Those  of  his  class  consi- 
der that  there  is  a  peculiar  merit  in  the  repetition  of  the  names 
and  attributes  of  God.  They  utterly  reject  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  which  they  believe  implies  a  sort  of  partnership,  or 
God-firm  (to  use  their  own  words),  and  declare  that  all  who 
accept  it  are  hopelessly  damned.  To  deny  Mahomet's  prophet- 
sliip  would  excile  a  violent  antagonism,  and  I  content  myself 
with  making  them  acknowledge  tnat  God  is  greater  than  ali 
Prophets  or  Apostles,  and  that  there  is  but  one  God  for  all  tht 
human  race.  I  have  never  yet  encountered  that  bitter  spir't 
of  bigotry  which  is  so  frequently  ascribed  to  them;  but  on  tbe 
contrary,  fully  as  great  a  tolerance  as  they  would  find  exhibited 
towards  them  by  most  of  the  Christian  sects. 

This  morning  a  paper  was  sent  to  us,  on  which  we  were 
requested  to  write  our  names,  ages,  professions,  and  places  of 
nativity.  "We  conjectured  that  we  were  subjected  to  the  sus- 
picion of  political  as  well  as  physical  taint,  but  happily  this  was 
not  the  case.  I  registered  myself  as  a  royagenr,  the  French  as 
ncgocians,  and  when  it  came  to  the  woman's  turn,  Absalom, 
■who  is  a  partisan  of  female  progress,  wished  to  give  her  the 
same  profession  as  her  husband — a  machinist.  But  she 
declared  that  her  only  profession  was  that  of  a  "  married 
woman,"  and  she  was  so  inscribed.  Her  peevish  boy  rejoiced 
in  the  title  of  " pleurickeur,"  or  "weeper,"  and  the  infant  as 
"  iiteuse,^^  or  "  sucker."     While  this  was  going  on,  the  guardi 


TRUifPETS.  26 

ano  of  our  room  came  in  very  mysteriously,  and  beckoned  to  my 
companion,  saying  tliat  "  Mademoiselle  was  at  tlie  gate."  But 
it  was  the  Italian  who  was  wanted,  and  again,  from  the  little 
window  of  our  pavilio'i,  we  watched  his  hurried  progress  over 
the  lawn.  Xo  sooner  had  she  departed,  than  he  took  his  pocket 
telescope,  slowly  sweeping  the  circuit  of  the  bay  as  she  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  Bcyrout.  He  has  succeeded  in  distinguish- 
ing, among  the  mass  of  buildings,  the  top  of  the  house  in  which 
she  lives,  but  alasl  it  is  one  story  too  low,  and  his  patient 
espial  has  only  been  rewarded  by  the  sight  of  some  cats 
promenading  on  the  roof. 

I  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  some  further  particulars  in 
relation  to  Quarantine.  On  the  night  of  our  arrival,  as  we 
were  about  getting  into  our  beds,  a  sudden  and  horrible  gush 
of  brimstone  vapor  came  up  stairs,  and  we  all  fell  to  coughing 
like  patients  in  a  pulmonary  hospital.  The  odor  increased  till 
we  were  obliged  to  open  the  windows  and  sit  beside  them  in 
order  to  breathe  comfortably.  This  was  the  preparatory  fumi- 
gation, in  order  to  remove  the  ranker  seeds  of  plague,  after 
which  the  milder  symptoms  will  of  themselves  vanish  in  the 
pure  air  of  the  place.  Several  times  a  day  we  are  stunned 
and  overwhelmed  with  the  cracked  brays  of  three  discordant 
trumpets,  as  grating  and  doleful  as  the  last  gasps  of  a  dying 
donkey.  At  first  I  supposed  the  object  of  this  was  to  give  a 
groa  ter  agitation  to  the  air,  and  separate  and  shake  down  t'.ie 
noxious  exhalations  we  emit ;  but  since  I  was  informed  that  the 
soldiers  outside  would  shoot  us  in  case  we  attempted  to  escape, 
J  have  concluded  that  the  sound  is  meant  to  alarm  us,  and  pro 
rent  our  approaching  too  near  the  walls.  On  inquiring  of  onr 
gaardiano  whether  the  wheat  growing  within  the  grounds  waa 


26  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEX 

subject  to  Quarantine,  he  informed  me  that  it  did  not  ccovej 
infection,  and  that  three  old  geese,  who  walked  out  past  the 
g\iard  with  impunity,  were  free  to  go  and  come,  as  they  had 
never  been  known  to  have  the  plague.  Yesterday  evening  the 
medical  attendant,  a  Polish  physician,  came  in  to  inspect  us, 
but  he  made  a  very  hasty  review,  looking  down  on  us  from  the 
top  of  a  high  horse. 

Monday,  April  19. 

Eureka  !  the  whole  thing  is  explained.  Talking  to  day  U'ith 
the  guardiano,  he  happened  to  mention  that  he  had  been  three 
years  in  Quarantine,  keeping  watch  over  infected  travellers. 
"  "What  I"  said  I,  "  you  have  been  sick  three  years."  "  Oh 
no,"  he  replied  ;  "  I  have  never  been  sick  at  all."  "  But  are 
not  people  sick  in  Quarantine  ?"  "  Staff erillah !"  he  esclaimed ; 
'  they  are  always  in  better  health  than  the  people  outside." 
"  What  is  Quarantine  for,  then  ?"  I  persisted.  "  What  is  it  for  ?" 
he  repeated,  with  a  pause  of  blank  amazement  at  my  ignorance, 
"  why,  to  get  money  from  the  travellers  I"  Indiscreet  gnat' 
diano  1  It  were  better  to  suppose  ourselves  under  suspicion  of 
the  plague,  than  to  have  such  an  explanation  of  the  mystery. 
Yet,  in  spite  of  the  unpalatable  knowledge,  I  almost  regret 
that  this  is  our  last  day  in  the  establishment.  The  air  is  so 
pure  and  bracing,  the  views  from  our  windows  so  magnificent, 
the  colonized  branch  of  the  Beyrout  Hotel  so  comfortable, 
that  I  am  content  to  enjoy  this  pleasant  idleness — the  more 
pleasant  since,  being  involuntary,  it  is  no  weight  on  the  con- 
Bcience.  I  look  up  to  the  Maronitc  villages,  perched  on  the 
slopes  of  Lebanon,  with  scarce  a  wish  to  climb  to  them,  of 
turning  to  the  sparkling  Mediterranean,  view 


ORIENTAL     EXAGGERATION.  SI 

"The  speronuia'a  sail  of  snowy  hue 
■Whiteaing  and  brightening  on  that  field  of  blue," 

and  have  none  of  that  unrest  which  the  sight  of  a  vessel  in 
motion  suggests. 

To-day  my  friend  from  Tirabuctoo  came  up  to  have  another 
talk.  lie  was  curious  to  know  the  object  of  my  travels,  and 
as  he  would  not  have  comprehended  the  exact  truth,  I  was 
obliged  to  convey  it  to  him  through  the  medium  of  fiction.  1 
informed  him  that  I  had  been  dispatched  by  the  Sultan  of  my 
country  to  obtain  information  of  the  countries  of  Africa;  tliat 
I  wrote  in  a  book  accounts  of  everything  I  saw,  and  on  my 
return,  would  present  this  book  to  the  Sultan,  who  would  re- 
ward me  with  a  high  rank — perhaps  even  that  of  Grand  Vizier. 
Tlie  Orientals  deal  largely  in  hyperbole,  and  scatter  numbers 
and  values  with  the  most  reckless  profusion.  The  Arabic,  like 
the  Hebrew,  its  sister  tongue,  and  other  old  original  tongues 
of  Man,  is  a  language  of  roots,  and  abounds  with  the  boldest 
metaphors.  Now,  exaggeration  is  but  the  imperfect  form  of 
metaphor.  The  expression  is  always  a  splendid  amplification  of 
the  simple  fact.  Like  skilful  archers,  in  order  to  hit  the  mark, 
they  aim  above  it.  When  you  have  once  learned  his  standard 
of  truth,  you  can  readily  gauge  an  Arab's  expressions,  and 
regulate  your  own  accordingly.  But  whenever  I  have  attempted 
to  strike  the  key-note  my.^elf,  I  generally  found  that  it  was 
below,  rather  than  above,  the  Oriental  })itch. 

The  Shekh  had  already  informed  me  that  the  King  of  Ashan- 
tee,  whom  he  had  visited,  possessed  twenty-four  houses  full  of 
gold,  and  that  the  Sultan  of  Iloussa  had  seventy  thousand 
Vorses  always  standing  saddled  before  his  palace,  in  order  that 
he  might  take  his  choice,  when  he  wished  to  ride  out.     By  this 


ao  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARiCEN. 

he  did  not  mean  that  the  facts  were  precisely  so,  but  only  that 
the  King  was  very  rich,  and  the  Sultan  had  a  great  many 
horses.  In  order  to  give  the  Shckh  an  idea  of  tlie  great  wealtb 
and  power  of  the  American  Nation,  I  was  obliged  to  adopt  the 
same  p'an.  I  told  him,  therefore,  that  our  country  was  twc 
years' journey  in  extent,  that  the  Treasury  consisted  of  four 
thousand  houses  filled  to  the  roof  with  gold,  and  that  two  hun- 
dred thousand  soldiers  on  horseback  kept  continual  guard 
around  Sultan  Fillmore's  palace.  He  received  these  tremendous 
statements  with  the  utmost  serenity  and  satisfaction,  carefully 
writing  them  in  his  book,  together  with  the  name  of  Sultan 
Fillmore,  whose  fame  has  ere  this  reached  the  remote  regions 
of  Timbuctoo  The  Shekh,  moreover,  had  the  desire  of  visiting 
England,  and  wished  me  to  give  him  a  letter  to  the  English 
Sultan.  This  rather  exceeded  my  powers,  but  I  wrote  a  simple 
certificate  explaining  who  he  was,  and  whence  he  came,  which 
I  sealed  with  an  immense  display  of  wax,  and  gave  him.  Ii 
return,  he  wrote  his  name  in  my  book,  in  the  Mughrebbin  char- 
acter, adding  the  sentence  :  "  There  is  no  God  but  God." 

This  evening  the  forbidden  subject  of  politics  crept  into  our 
quiet  community,  and  the  result  was  an  explosive  contention 
which  drowned  even  the  braying  of  the  agonizing  trumpets  out- 
Bide.  The  gentlemanly  Frenchman  is  a  sensible  and  consistent 
republican,  the  old  Jilattur  a  violent  monarchist,  while  Absa- 
lom, as  I  might  have  foreseen,  is  a  Red,  of  the  schools  of  Proud- 
hon  and  Considerant.  The  first  predicted  a  Republic  iu 
France,  the  second  a  Monarchy  in  America,  and  the  last  was 
in  favor  of  a  general  and  total  demolition  of  all  existing  sy» 
terns.  Of  course,  with  such  elements,  anything  like  a  serious 
discussion  was  impossible  ;  and,  as  in  most  French  debates,  it 


DRAGOMEN  J- OS  29 

euded  in  a  bewildeniig  confusion  of  cries  and  gesticulations 
lu  the  midst  of  it,  I  was  struck  by  the  cordiality  with  wliicb 
the  Monarchist  and  the  Socialist  united  in  tlieir  denuiciations 
of  Eugland  and  the  Englisli  laws.  As  they  sat  side  by  side 
pouring  out  anathemas  against  "  perlidc  Albion,"  I  could  not 
help  exclaiming:  "  Foud,  cumme  les  extremes  se  rencontreiU  !" 
This  turned  the  whole  current  of  their  wrath  against  me,  and 
I  was  glad  to  make  a  hasty  retreat. 

The  i)hysician  again  visited  us  to-night,  to  promise  a  release 
to-morrow  morning.  He  looked  us  all  in  the  faces,  to  be  cer- 
tain that  there  were  no  signs  of  pestilence,  and  politely  regret- 
ted that  he  could  not  offer  us  his  hand.  The  husband  of  the 
"  married  woman"  also  came,  and  relieved  the  other  gentlemen 
from  the  charge  of  the  "  weeper."  Ue  was  a  stout,  ruddy 
Provencal,  in  a  white  blouse,  and  I  commiserated  him  sincerely 
for  having  such  a  disagreeable  wife. 

To-day,  being  the  last  of  our  imprisonment,  we  have  received 
many  tokens  of  attention  from  dragomen,  who  have  sent  their 
papers  through  the  grate  to  us,  to  be  returned  to-morrow  after 
our  libera,tion.  They  are  not  very  prepossessing  sj^ecimens  of 
their  class,  with  the  exception  of  Yusef  Badra,  who  brings  a 
recommendation  from  my  friend,  Ross  Browne,  Yusef  is  a 
handsome,  dashing  fellow,  with  something  of  the  dandy  in  hig 
dress  and  air,  but  he  has  a  line,  clear,  sparkling  eye,  with  just 
enough  of  the  devil  in  it  to  make  him  attractive.  1  think,  how 
ever,  that  the  Greek  dragoman,  who  has  been  our  companion 
in  Quarantine,  will  carry  the  day,  Ue  is  by  birth  a  Boeotian, 
but  now  a  citizen  of  Athens,  and  calls  himself  Fran(;ois  Vitalis 
Ue  speaks  French,  German,  and  Italian,  besides  Arabic  and 
Turkish,  and  as  he  has  been  for  twelve  or  fifteen  years  vibrafr 


so  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN. 

ing  between  Europe  and  the  East,  he  must  by  this  thae  havt 
amassed  sufficient  experience  to  answer  the  needs  of  rough-and- 
tumble  travellers  like  ourselves.  He  has  not  asked  us  for  the 
place,  which  displays  so  much  penetration  on  his  part,  that  we 
shall  end  by  offering  it  to  hira.  Perhaps  he  is  content  to  rest 
his  claims  upon  the  memory  of  our  first  Quarantine  dinner.  If 
so,  the  odors  of  the  cutlets  and  larks — even  of  the  raw  onion, 
which  we  remember  with  tears — shall  not  plead  his  cause  in 
vain. 

Betbout  (out  of  Quarantine),  Wednetday,  May  21. 

The  handsome  Greek,  Diamanti,  one  of  the  proprietors  of 
the  "  Hotel  de  Belle  Vue,"  was  on  hand  bright  and  early  yes- 
terday morning,  to  welcome  us  out  of  Quarantine.  The  gates 
were  thrown  wide,  and  forth  w^e  issued  between  two  files  of 
soldiers,  rejoicing  in  our  purification.  We  walked  through  mul- 
berry orchards  to  the  town,  and  through  its  steep  and  crooked 
streets  to  the  hotel,  which  stands  beyond,  near  the  extremity 
of  the  Cape,  or  Ras  Beyrout.  The  town  is  small,  but  has  an 
active  population,  and  a  larger  commerce  than  any  other  port 
in  Syria.  The  anchorage,  however,  is  an  open  road,  and  in 
stormy  weather  it  is  impossible  for  a  boat  to  land.  There  are 
two  picturesque  old  castles  on  some  rocks  near  the  shore,  but 
they  were  almost  destroyed  by  the  English  bombardment  in 
1841.  I  noticed  two  or  three  granite  columns,  now  used  as 
the  lintels  of  some  of  the  arched  ways  in  the  streets,  and  other 
fragments  of  old  masonry,  the  only  remains  of  the  ancien 
Berytus. 

Our  time,  since  our  release,  has  been  occupied  by  prepara- 
tions  for  the  journey  to  Jerusalem.  We  have  taken  Francois 
aa  dragoman,  and  our  nukkairee,  or  muleteers,  are  engaged  tc 


PitEt'AKATiONS     FOR    UEPARTURK.  31 

be  in  readiness  to-morrow  morning,  I  learn  that  the  Drnses 
are  in  revolt  in  Djebel  Ilauaran  and  parts  of  the  Anti-Lebanon, 
which  will  prevent  my  forming  any  settled  plan  for  the  tour 
through  Palestine  and  Syria.  Up  to  this  time,  the  country  has 
been  considered  quite  sa*e,  the  only  robbery  this  winter  having 
been  that  of  the  party  of  Mr.  Degen,  of  New  York,  which  was 
plundered  near  Tiberias.  Dr.  Robinson  left  here  two  weeks 
age  for  Jerusalem,  in  company  with  Dr.  Eh  JSmith,  of  the 
American  Mispicn  at  this  place. 


33  tHK  LXSTA     OF    THE  SARACEN. 


CHAPTER    II. 

13  ft.    <}OAST    OF    PALE3TINS. 

fh»  PUgrimage  Commen<w/f — The  Muleteers — T!ie  Mules — Tbe  Dt  nkey— Journc/  ta 
Sidon — The  Foot  of  Leba»«>n— Pictures— The  Ruins  of  Tyre— A  Wild  Morning — The 
Tyrian  Surges — Climbing  ■»«  Ladder  of  Tyre — Panorama  of  the  Bay  of  Acre — The 
Plain  of  Esdraelon — Camp  -,■»  x  Garden — Acre — the  Shore  of  the  Bay — Ilaifa — Mount 
Carmel  and  its  Monastery — *  Deserted  Coast — The  Ruins  of  Cassarea — The  Scenery 
of  Palestine — We  become  Ro  .  ^rs — El  Uaram — Wrecks— the  Harbor  and  Town  of 
JalTa. 

"  Along  the  line  of  foam,  the  jewelled  chain, 
The  largesst  0/  the  ever-giving  main." 

R.  H.  Stoddard. 

Ramlkh,  April  2T,  1852. 

We  left  Beyrout  on  the  morning  of  the  22d.  Our  caravan 
consisted  of  three  horses,  three  mules,  and  a  donkey,  in  charge 
of  two  men — Dervish,  an  erect,  black-bearded,  and  most 
impassive  Mussulman,  and  Mustapha,  who  is  the  very  picture 
of  patience  and  good-nature.  He  was  born  with  a  smile  on 
his  face,  and  has  never  been  able  to  change  the  expression. 
They  are  both  masters  of  their  art,  and  can  load  a  mule  with  a 
speed  and  skill  which  I  would  defy  any  Santa  Fe  trader  to 
excel.  The  animals  are  not  less  interesting  than  their  masters. 
Our  horses,  to  be  sure,  are  slow,  plodding  beasts,  with  consi- 
derable endurance,  but  little  spirit  ;  but  the  two  baggage 
mules  deserve  gold  medals  from  the  Society  for  the  Promotion 


THE    MULES.  V3 

of  Iiidnstry.  I  can  overlook  any  amount  of  waywardness 
in  Mie  creatures,  in  consideration  of  the  steady,  persevering 
energy,  the  clieerfuluess  and  even  enthusiasm  with  which  tlicj 
perform  their  duties.  Thoy  seem  to  be  conscious  tliat  they  art 
doing  well,  and  to  take  a  delight  in  the  consciousness.  Out 
of  them  has  a  band  of  white  shells  around  his  neck,  fastened 
with  a  tassel  and  two  large  blue  beads;  and  you  need  but  look 
at  him  to  see  that  he  is  aware  how  becoming  it  is.  He  thinks 
it  was  given  to  him  for  good  conduct,  and  is  doing  his  best  to 
merit  another.  The  little  donkey  is  a  still  more  original 
animal,  lie  is  a  practical  humorist,  full  of  perverse  tricks, 
but  all  intended  for  effect,  and  without  a  particle  of  malice. 
He  generally  walks  behind,  running  off  to  one  side  or  the 
other  to  crop  a  mouthful  of  grass,  but  no  sooner  does  Dervish 
attempt  to  mount  him,  than  he  sets  off  at  full  gallop,  and 
takes  the  lead  of  the  caravan.  After  having  performed  one 
of  his  feats,  he  turns  around  with  a  droll  glance  at  us,  as  much 
as  to  say  :  "  Did  you  see  that  ?"  If  we  had  not  been  present, 
most  assuredly  he  would  never  have  done  it.  I  can  imagine 
him,  after  his  return  to  Bcyrout,  relating  his  adventures  to  a 
company  of  fellow-donkeys,  who  every  now  and  then  burst  into 
tremendous  brays  at  some  of  his  irresistible  dry  sayings. 

I  persuaded  Mr.  Harrison  to  adopt  the  Oriental  costume, 
which,  from  five  months*  wear  in  Africa,  I  greatly  preferred  to 
the  Frank.  We  therefore  rode  out  of  Beyrout  as  a  pair 
cl  Syrian  Beys,  wliile  Francois,  with  his  belt,  sabre,  and  pistols, 
had  mu^h  the  aspect  of  a  Greek  brigand.  The  road  crosses  the 
hill  l»ehind  the  city,  between  the  Forest  of  Pines  and  a  long 
tract  of  red  sand-hills  next  the  sea.  It  was  a  lovely  morning, 
not  too  bright  and  hot,  for  light,  fleecy  vapors  hung  along  tb« 

2* 


84  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACE2*. 

sides  of  liebanon.  Beyond  the  mulberry  orchards,  we  entered 
on  wild,  half-cultivated  tracts,  covered  with  a  bewildering  maze 
of  blossoms.  The  hill-side  and  stony  shelves  of  soil  overhang- 
ing the  sea  fairly  blazed  with  the  brilliant  dots  of  color  which 
wsre  rained  upon  them.  The  pink,  the  broom,  the  poppy,  the 
speedwell,  the  lupin,  that  beautiful  variety  of  the  cyclamen, 
called  by  the  Syrians  "  deeJc  e-djebd"  {coiik  o'  the  mountain), 
and  a  number  of  unknown  plants  dazzled  the  eye  with  their 
profusion,  and  loaded  the  air  with  fragrance  as  rare  as  it  was 
unfailing.  Here  and  there,  clear,  swift  rivulets  came  dowi 
from  Lebanon,  coursing  their  way  between  thickets  of  bloom- 
ing oleanders.  Just  before  crossing  the  little  river  Damoor, 
FranQois  pointed  out,  on  one  of  the  distant  heights,  the  resi- 
dence of  the  late  Lady  Hester  Stanhope.  During  the  after- 
noon we  crossed  several  offshoots  of  the  Lebanon,  by  paths 
incredibly  steep  and  stony,  and  towards  evening  reached  Saida, 
the  ancient  Sidon,  where  we  obtained  permission  to  pitch  our 
tent  in  a  garden.  The  town  is  built  on  a  narrow  point  of  land, 
jutting  out  from  the  centre  of  a  bay,  or  curve  in  the  coast,  and 
contains  about  five  thousand  inhabitants.  It  is  a  quiet,  sleepy 
sort  of  a  place,  and  contains  nothing  of  the  old  Sidon  except  a 
few  stones  and  the  fragments  of  a  mole,  extending  into  the  sea. 
The  fortress  in  the  water,  and  the  Citadel,  are  remnants  of 
Venitian  sway.  The  clouds  gathered  after  nightfall,  and 
occasionally  there  was  a  dash  of  rain  on  our  tent.  But  I  heard 
it  Tith  the  same  quiet  happiness,  as  when,  in  boyhood,  sleep- 
ing  beneath  the  rafters,  I  have  heard  the  rain  beating  all  night 
npon  the  roof.  I  breathed  the  sweet  breath  of  the  grasseg 
whereon  my  carpet  was  spread,  and  old  Mother  Earth,  wel- 
coming me   back   to   her   bosom,  cradled  me  into  calm   and 


TEE     FOOT      *F     LEBANON  35 

7efreshing  sleep.  There  is  no  rest  more  grateful  than  thai 
which  we  take  on  the  turf  or  the  sand,  except  the  rest  below 
it. 

We  rose  in  a  dark  and  cloudy  morning,  and  continued  oui 
way  between  fields  of  barley,  completely  stained  with  the 
bloody  hue  of  the  poppy,  and  meadows  turned  into  golden 
mosaic  by  a  brilliant  yellow  daisy.  Untd  noon  our  road  was 
over  a  region  of  alternate  meadow  land  and  gentle  though  stony 
elevations,  making  out  from  Lebanon.  We  met  continually 
with  indications  of  ancient  power  and  prosperity.  The  ground 
was  strewn  with  hewn  blocks,  and  the  foundations  of  buildiuga 
remain  in  many  places.  Broken  sarcophagi  lie  half-buried  in 
grass,  and  the  gray  rocks  of  the  hills  are  pierced  with  tombs. 
The  soil,  though  stony,  appeared  to  be  naturallv  fertile,  and 
the  crops  of  wheat,  barley,  and  lentils  were  vei/  flourishing. 
After  rounding  the  promontory  which  forms  the  southern  boun- 
dary of  the  Gulf  of  Sidon,  we  rode  for  an  hour  or  two  over  a 
plain  near  the  sea,  and  then  came  down  to  a  valley  which  ran 
up  among  the  hills,  terminating  in  a  natural  amphitheatre.  An 
ancient  barrow,  or  tumulus,  nobody  knows  of  whom,  stands 
near  the  sea.  During  the  day  I  noticed  two  charming  little 
pictures.  One,  a  fountain  gushing  into  a  broad  square  basin 
of  masonry,  shaded  by  three  branching  cypresses.  Two  Turks 
sat  on  its  edge,  eating  their  bread  and  curdled  milk,  while 
their  horses  drank  out  of  the  stone  trough  below.  The  other, 
an  old  Mahommedan,  with  a  green  turban  and  white  robe, 
seated  at  the  foot  of  a  majestic  sycamore,  over  the  high  bank 
Df  a  stream  that  tumljled  down  its  bed  of  white  marble  rock  to 
the  sea. 

The  plain  back  of  the  narrow,  sandy  promontory  on  whidi 


.36  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN. 

the  modern  Soor  is  built,  is  a  rich  black  loam,  which  a  little 
proper  culture  would  turn  into  a  very  garden.  It  helped  me 
to  account  for  the  wealth  of  ancient  Tyre.  The  approach  tc 
the  town,  along  a  beach  on  which  the  surf  broke  with  a  ccn> 
tinuous  roar,  with  the  wreck  of  a  Greek  vessel  in  the  foro- 
ground,  and  a  stormy  sky  behind,  was  very  striking.  It  waa 
a  wild,  bleak  picture,  the  white  minarets  of  the  town  standing 
out  spectrally  against  the  clouds.  We  rode  up  the  sand-hills, 
back  of  the  town,  and  selected  a  good  camping-place  among 
the  ruins  of  Tyre.  Near  us  there  was  an  ancient  square  build- 
ing, now  used  as  a  cistern,  and  filled  with  excellent  fresh  water 
The  surf  roared  tremendously  on  the  rocks,  on  either  hand, 
and  the  boom  of  the  more  distant  breakers  came  to  my  ear 
like  the  wind  in  a  pine  forest.  The  remains  of  the  ancient  sea- 
wall are  still  to  be  traced  for  the  entire  circuit  of  the  city,  and 
the  heavy  surf  breaks  upon  jjiles  of  shattered  granite  columns. 
Along  a  sort  of  mole,  protecting  an  inner  harbor  on  the  north 
side,  are  great  numbers  of  these  columns.  I  counted  fifteen 
in  one  group,  some  of  them  fine  red  granite,  and  some  of  the 
marble  of  Lebanon.  The  remains  of  the  pliaros  and  the  for- 
tresses strengthening  the  sea-wall,  were  pointed  out  by  the 
Syrian  who  accompanied  us  as  a  guide,  but  his  faith  was  a 
little  stronger  than  mine.  He  even  showed  us  the  ruins  of  the 
jetty  built  by  Alexander,  by  means  of  which  the  ancient  city, 
then  insulated  by  the  sea,  was  taken.  The  remains  of  the  cause- 
way gradually  formed  the  promontory  by  which  the  place  is 
now  connected  with  the  ir.ain  land.  These  are  the  principal 
indications  of  Tyre  above  ground,  but  the  guide  informed  us 
that  the  Arabs,  in  digging  among  the  sand-hills  for  the  stones 
of  the  old  buildings,  which  they  quarry  out  and  ship  to  Bty* 


THE    TYUIAX     SURGES.  37 

rout,  como  upon  chambers,  pillars,  arches,  and  other  objects. 
The  Tyrian  purple  it  still  furnished  by  a  muscle  found  upon  tlie 
coast,  but  Tyre  is  now  only  noted  for  its  tobacco  and  mill- 
stones. I  saw  many  of  the  latter  lying  in  the  streets  cf  the 
town,  and  an  Arab  was  selling  a  quantity  at  auction  in  the 
square,  as  we  passed.  They  are  cut  out  from  a  species  of  dark 
volcanic  rock,  by  the  Bedouins  of  tlie  mountains.  Tliere  were 
naif  a  dozen  small  coasting  vessels  lying  in  the  road,  but  the 
old  harbors  are  entirely  destroyed.  Isaiah's  prophecy  is  Hter 
ally  fulfilled  :  "  Howl,  ye  ships  of  Tarshish  ;  for  it  is  laid  waste, 
eo  that  there  is  no  house,  no  entering  in." 

On  returning  from  our  ramble  we  passed  tlie  house  of  the 
Governor,  Daood  Agha,  who  was  dispensing  justice  in  regard 
to  a  lawsuit  then  before  him.  lie  asked  us  to  stop  and  take 
coffee,  and  received  us  with  much  grace  and  dignity.  As  we 
rose  to  leave,  a  slave  brought  me  a  large  bunch  of  choice  flowers 
from  his  garden. 

We  set  out  from  Tyre  at  an  early  hour,  and  rode  along  tht 
beach  around  the  head  of  the  bay  to  the  Ras-el-Abiad,  the 
ancient  Promontorium  Album.  The  morning  was  wild  and 
cloudy,  with  gleams  of  sunshine  that  flashed  out  over  the  dark 
violet  gloom  of  the  sea.  The  surf  was  magnificent,  rolling  up 
In  grand  billows,  which  broke  and  formed  again,  till  the  last 
of  the  long,  falling  fringes  of  snow  slid  seething  up  the  sand. 
Something  of  ancient  power  was  in  their  shock  and  roar,  and 
every  great  wave  that  plunged  and  drew  back  again,  called  m 
its  solemn  bass  :  "  Where  are  the  ships  of  Tyre  ?  where  are 
the  ships  of  Tyre?"  I  looked  back  on  the  city,  which  stood 
advanced  far  into  the  sea,  her  feet  bathed  in  thunderous  spray. 
By  and  by  the  clovds  cleared  away,  the  sun  came  out  bold  ami 


88  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

bright,  aad  our  road  left  the  beach  for  a  meadowy  plaio^ 
crossed  by  fresh  streams,  and  sown  with  an  inexhaustible  wealth 
of  flowers.  Through  thickets  of  myrtle  and  mastic,  around 
which  the  rue  and  lavender  grew  in  dense  clusters,  we  reached 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  began  ascending  the  celebrated 
Ladder  of  Tyre.  The  road  is  so  steep  as  to  resemble  a  stair- 
case, and  climbs  along  the  side  of  the  promontory,  hanging 
over  precipices  of  naked  white  rock,  in  some  places  three  hun- 
dred feet  in  height.  The  mountain  is  a  mass  of  magnesian 
limestone,  with  occasional  beds  of  marble.  The  surf  has  worn 
its  foot  into  hollow  caverns,  into  which  the  sea  rushes  with  a 
dull,  heavy  boom,  like  distant  thunder.  The  sides  are  covered 
with  thickets  of  broom,  myrtle,  arbutus,  ilex,  mastic  and  laurel, 
overgrown  with  woodbine,  and  interspersed  with  patches  of 
sage,  lavender,  hyssop,  wild  thyme,  and  rue.  The  whole  moun- 
tain is  a  heap  of  balm  ;  a  bundle  of  sweet  spices. 

Our  horses'  hoofs  clattered  up  and  down  tlie  rounds  of  the 
ladder,  and  we  looked  our  last  on  Tyre,  fading  away  behind 
the  white  hem  of  the  breakers,  as  we  turned  the  point  of  the 
promontory.  Another  cove  of  the  mountain-coast  followed, 
terminated  by  the  Cape  of  Nakhura,  the  northern  point  of  the 
Bay  of  Acre.  We  rode  along  a  stony  way  between  fields  of 
wheat  and  barley,  blotted  almost  out  of  sight  by  showers  of 
Bcarlet  poppies  and  yellow  chrysanthemums.  There  were  fre* 
qucnt  ruins  :  fragments  of  sarcophagi,  foundations  of  houses, 
and  about  half  way  between  the  two  capes,  the  mounds  of 
Alexandro-Schcenae.  We  stopped  at  a  khan,  and  breakfasted 
Cider  a  magnificent  olive  tree,  while  two  boys  tended  om 
Worses  to  see  that  they  ate  only  the  edges  of  the  wheat  field. 
Below  the  house  were  two  large   cypresses,  and  on  a  littU 


PANORAMA  OF  TUE  BAY  OF  ACRE.  8S 

iongue  of  laud  the  ruins  of  one  of  those  square  towers  of  the 
corsairs,  which  line  all  this  coast.  The  intense  blue  of  the 
Bea,  seen  close  at  hand  over  a  broad  field  of  goldeniug  wheat, 
formed  a  dazzling  and  superb  contrast  of  color.  Early  in  the 
afternoon  we  climbed  the  Ras  Nakhura,  not  so  bold  and  grand, 
though  quite  as  Ilowery  a  steep  as  the  Promontorium  Album. 
We  had  been  jogging  half  an  hour  over  its  uneven  summit, 
when  the  side  suddenly  fell  away  below  us,  and  we  saw  the 
whole  of  the  great  gulf  and  plain  of  Acre,  backed  by  the  long 
ridge  of  Mount  Carmel.  Behind  the  sea,  which  makes  a  deep 
indentation  in  the  line  of  the  coast,  extended  the  plain, 
bounded  on  the  east,  at  two  leagues'  distance,  by  a  range  of 
hills  covered  with  luxuriant  olive  groves,  and  still  higher,  by 
the  distant  mountains  of  Galilee.  The  fortifications  of  Acre 
were  visible  on  a  slight  promontory  near  the  middle  of  the 
Gulf.  From  our  feet  the  line  of  foamy  surf  extended  for 
miles  along  the  red  sand-beach,  till  it  finally  became  like  a 
chalk-mark  on  the  edge  of  the  field  of  blue. 

We  rode  down  the  mountain  and  continued  our  journey  over 
the  plain  of  Esdraelon — a  picture  of  summer  luxuriance  and 
bloom.  The  waves  of  wheat  and  barley  rolled  away  from  our 
path  to  the  distant  olive  orchards  ;  here  the  water  gushed 
from  a  stone  fountain  and  flowed  into  a  turf-girdled  pool, 
around  which  the  Syrian  women  w^ere  washing  their  garments  ; 
there,  a  garden  of  orange,  lemon,  fig,  and  pomegranate  tree? 
in  blossom,  was  a  spring  of  sweet  odors,  which  overflowed  the 
whole  land.  We  rode  into  some  of  these  forests,  for  they  were 
DO  less,  and  finally  pitched  our  tent  in  one  of  them,  belonging 
to  the  palace  of  the  former  Abdallah  Pasha,  within  a  mile  of 
A-cre.     The  old  Saracen  aqueduct,  which  still  conveys  water  to 


40  TITK     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN. 

the  town,  overlmng  our  tent.  For  an  hour  before  reaching  cm 
destination,  we  had  seen  it  on  the  left,  crossing  tlie  follows  on 
light  stone  arches.  In  one  place  I  counted  fifty-eight,  and  it 
another  one  hundred  and  three  of  tliese  aiches,  some  of  whicL 
were  fifty  feet  high.  Our  camp  was  a  charming  i)lace  :  a  nest 
of  deep  herbage,  under  two  enormous  fig-trees,  and  surroundea 
by  a  balmy  grove  of  orange  and  citron.  It  was  doubly  beau- 
tiful when  the  long  line  of  the  aqueduct  was  lit  up  by  the  moon, 
and  the  orange  trees  became  mounds  of  ambrosial  darkness. 

In  the  morning  we  rode  to  Acre,  the  fortifications  of  which 
have  been  restored  on  the  land-side.  A  ponderous  double  gate 
way  of  stone  admitted  us  iuto  the  city,  through  what  was  once, 
apparently,  the  court-yard  of  a  fortress.  The  streets  of  the 
town  are  narrow,  terribly  rough,  and  very  dirty,  but  the 
bazaars  are  extensive  and  well  stocked.  The  principal  mosque, 
whose  heavy  dome  is  visible  at  some  distance  from  the  city,  is 
surrounded  with  a  garden,  enclosed  by  a  pillared  corridor, 
paved  with  marljle.  All  the  houses  of  the  city  are  built  in  the 
most  massive  style,  of  hard  gray  limestone  or  marble,  and  this 
circumstance  alone  prevented  their  complete  destruction  during 
the  English  bombardment  in  1841.  The  marks  of  the  shells 
are  everywhere  seen,  and  the  upper  parts  of  the  lofty  buildings 
are  completely  riddled  with  cannon-balls,  some  of  which 
remain  embedded  in  the  stone.  We  made  a  rapid  tour  of  the 
town  on  horseback,  followed  by  the  curious  glances  of  the 
people,  \\ho  were  in  doubt  whether  to  consider  us  Turks  or 
Franks.  There  were  a  dozen  vessels  in  the  harbor,  which  is 
considered  the  best  iu  Syria, 

The  baggage-mules  had  gone  on,  so  we  galloped  after  them 
along  the  hard  beach,  around  the  head  of  the  bay.     It  was  a 


HAIFA  AND  MOUNT  CARMEL.  41 

brilliant  morning  ;  a  delicious  south-eastern  Lrocze  came  to  ua 
over  the  flowery  jjlain  of  Esdraelon  ;  tlie  sea  on  our  right  shone 
blue,  and  purple,  and  violet-green,  and  black,  as  the  shadows 
or  sunshine  crossed  it,  and  only  the  long  lines  of  roaring  foam, 
for  ever  changing  in  form,  did  not  vary  in  hue  A  fisherman 
stood  on  the  beac'«  in  a  statuesque  attitude,  his  handsome  bare 
legs  bathed  in  the  frothy  swells,  a  bag  of  fish  hanging  from  big 
Bhoulder,  and  the  large  square  net,  with  its  sinkers  of  lead  iu 
bis  right  hand,  ready  for  a  cast.  lie  had  good  luck,  for  the 
waves  brought  up  plenty  of  large  fish,  and  cast  them  at  our 
feet,  leaving  them  to  struggle  back  into  the  treacherous  brine. 
Between  Acre  and  Haifa  we  passed  six  or  eight  wrecks,  mostly 
of  small  trading  vessels.  Some  were  half  buried  in  sand,  some 
so  old  and  mossy  that  they  were  fast  rotting  away,  while  a  few 
bad  been  recently  hurled  there.  As  we  rounded  the  deep  curve 
of  the  bay,  and  approached  the  line  of  palm-trees  girding  the 
foot  of  Mount  Carmcl,  Haifa,  with  its  wall  and  Saracenic 
town  in  ruin  on  the  hill  above,  grew  more  clear  and  bright  in 
the  sun,  while  Acre  dipped  into  the  blue  of  the  Mediterranean. 
The  town  of  Haifa,  the  ancient  Caiapha,  is  small,  dirty,  and 
beggarly  looking  ;  but  it  has  some  commerce,  sharing  the  trade 
ot  Acre  in  the  productions  of  Syria.  It  was  Sunday,  and  all 
the  Consular  flags  were  flying.  It  was  an  unexpected  delight 
to  find  the  American  colors  in  this  little  Syrian  town,  flying 
Irom  one  of  the  tallest  polos.  The  people  stared  at  us  as  we 
passed,  and  I  noticed  among  them  many  bright  Prankish  faces, 
with  eyes  too  clear  and  gray  for  Syria.  0  ye  kind  brothers  of 
the  monastery  of  Carmel  1  forgive  me  if  I  look  to  you  for  aa 
explanation  of  this  phenomenon. 

We  ascended  to  Mount  Carmel.     The  path  led  through  s 


l2  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 

grove  of  carob  trees,  from  wliich  the  beans,  known  in  Germany 
as  St.  John's  broad,  are  produced.  After  this  we  came  iutc 
an  olive  grove  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  from  wnich  long 
fields  of  wheat,  giving  forth  a  ripe  summer  smell,  flowed  down 
to  the  shore  of  the  bay.  The  olive  trees  were  of  immense  size, 
and  I  can  well  believe,  as  Fra  Carlo  informed  us,  that  thoy 
were  probably  planted  by  the  Roman  colonists,  established 
there  by  Titus.  The  gnarled,  veteran  boles  still  send  forth 
vigorous  and  blossoming  boughs.  There  were  all  manner  of 
lovely  lights  and  shades  chequered  over  the  turf  and  the  wind- 
ing path  we  rode.  At  last  we  reached  the  foot  of  an  ascent, 
steeper  than  the  Ladder  of  Tyre.  As  our  horses  slowly  climbed 
to  the  Convent  of  St.  Elijah,  whence  we  already  saw  the  French 
flag  floating  over  the  shoulder  of  the  mountain,  the  view  opened 
grandly  to  the  north  and  east,  revealing  the  bay  and  plain  of 
Acre,  and  the  coast  as  far  as  Ras  Nakhura,  from  which  we  first 
saw  Mount  Carmel  the  day  previous.  The  two  views  are  very 
similar  in  character,  one  being  the  obverse  of  the  other.  We 
reached  the  Convent — Dayr  Mar  Elias,  as  the  Arabs  call  it — ■ 
at  noon,  just  in  time  to  partake  of  a  bountiful  dinner,  to  which 
the  monks  had  treated  themselves.  Fra  Carlo,  the  good  Fran- 
ciscan who  receives  strangers,  showed  us  the  building,  and  the 
Grotto  of  Elijah,  which  is  under  the  altar  of  the  Convent 
Church,  a  small  but  very  handsome  structure  of  Italian  marble. 
The  sanctity  of  the  Grotto  depends  on  tradition  entirely,  as 
there  is  no  mention  in  the  Eible  of  Elijah  having  resided  on 
Carmel,  though  it  was  from  this  mountain  that  he  saw  the 
cloud,  "  like  a  man's  hand,"  rising  from  the  sea.  The  Convent, 
which  is  quite  new — not  yet  completed,  in  fact — is  a  largo, 
massive  building,  and  has  the  aspect  of  a  fortress. 


THK     RUIXS     OF     C^SAREA.  43 

As  we  were  to  sleep  at  Tantura,  five  hours  distant,  we 
»r(rc  obliged  to  make  a  short  visit,  in  spite  of  the  invitation  of 
the  hospitable  Fra  Carlo  to  spend  the  night  there.  In  the 
afternoon  we  passed  the  ruins  of  Athlit,  a  to^vn  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  the  Castel  Pollegrino  of  the  Crusaders.  Our  read 
now  followed  the  beach,  nearly  the  whole  distance  to  Jaffa, 
and  was  in  many  places,  for  leagues  in  extent,  a  solid  layer  of 
white,  brown,  purple  and  rosy  shells,  which  cracked  and  rattled 
under  our  horses'  feet.  Tantura  is  a  poor  Arab  village,  and 
we  had  some  difiQculty  in  procuring  provisions.  The  people 
lived  in  small  huts  of  mud  and  stones,  near  the  sea.  The  place 
had  a  thievish  look,  and  we  deemed  it  best  to  be  careful  iu  the 
disposal  of  our  baggage  for  the  night. 

In  the  morning  we  took  the  coast  again,  riding  over  millions 
of  shells.  A  Hue  of  sandy  hills,  covered  with  thickets  of 
myrtle  and  mastic,  shut  off  the  view  of  the  plain  and  meadows 
between  the  sea  and  the  hills  of  Samaria.  After  three  hours' 
ride  we  saw  the  ruins  of  ancient  Caesarea,  near  a  small  pro- 
montory. The  road  turned  away  from  the  sea,  and  took  the 
wild  plain  behind,  which  is  completely  overgrown  vnth  camo- 
mile, chrysanthemum  and  wild  shrubs.  The  ruins  of  the  town 
are  visible  at  a  considerable  distance  along  the  coast.  The 
principal  remains  consist  of  a  massive  wall,  flanked  with  pyra- 
midal bastions  at  regular  intervals,  and  with  the  traces  of  gate- 
ways, draw-bridges  and  towers.  It  was  formerly  surrounded 
by  a  deep  moat.  Within  this  s\)ace,  which  may  "oe  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  square,  are  a  few  fragments  of  buildings,  and  toward 
the  sea,  some  high  arches  and  masses  of  masonry.  The  plain 
around  abounds  with  traces  of  houses,  streets,  and  court-yards 
Ceesarea  was  one  of  the  lloman  colonies,  but  owed  its  prospo 


iA  THE  LANDS  OF  TUE  SARACEN. 

rity  principally  to  Herod.     St.  Paul  passed  through  it  on  hi 
way  from  Macedon  to  Jerusalem,  by  the  very  road  we  wers 
travelling;. 

During-  the  day  the  path  struck  inland  over  a  vast  rollinjj 
plain,  covered  with  sage,  lavender  and  other  swcet-smelliug 
Bhrubs,  and  tenanted  by  herds  of  gazelles  and  flocks  of  large 
Btorks.  As  we  advanced  further,  the  landscape  became  singa- 
larly  beautiful.  It  was  a  broad,  shallow  valley,  swelling  away 
towards  the  east  into  low,  rolling  hills,  far  back  of  which  rose 
the  blue  line  of  the  mountains — the  hill-country  of  Judta. 
The  soil,  where  it  was  ploughed,  was  the  richest  vegetable  loam. 
Where  it  lay  fallow  it  was  entirely  hidden  by  a  bed  of  grass 
and  camomile.  Here  and  there  great  herds  of  sheep  and  goats 
browsed  on  the  herbage.  There  was  a  quiet  pastoral  air  about 
the  landscape,  a  soft  serenity  in  its  forms  and  colors,  as  if  the 
Hebrew  patriarchs  still  made  it  their  abode.  The  district  is 
famous  for  robbers,  and  we  kept  our  arms  in  readiness,  never 
Buffering  the  baggage  to  be  out  of  our  sight. 

Towards  evening,  as  Mr.  H.  and  myself,  with  FranQois, 
were  riding  in  advance  of  the  baggage  mules,  the  former  with 
his  gun  in  his  hand,  I  with  a  pair  of  pistols  thrust  through  the 
folds  of  my  shawl,  and  Francois  with  his  long  Turkish  sabre, 
we  came  suddenly  upon  a  lonely  Englishman,  whose  com- 
panions were  somewhere  in  tlie  rear.  He  appeared  to  be 
Btruck  with  terror  on  seeing  us  making  towards  him,  and, 
turning  his  horse's  head,  made  an  attempt  to  fly.  The  animal^ 
however,  was  restive,  and,  after  a  few  plunges,  refused  to 
move.  The  traveller  gave  himself  up  for  lost  ;  his  arms 
dropped  by  his  side  ;  he  stared  wildly  at  us,  with  pale  face 
and  eyes  opened  wide  with  a  look  of  helpless  fright.     Restrain 


EL    UARAM.  4C 

Ing  witli  diffiruTy  a  snout  of  laughter,  I  said  to  liiin  :  "Did 
you  leave  Jaffa  to-day  ?"  but  so  completely  was  his  ear  tlift 
fool  cf  his  imagination,  that  he  thought  I  was  speakinjj 
Arabic,  and  made  a  faint  attempt  to  get  out  the  only  word  o: 
two  of  that  language  which  he  knew.  I  then  repeated,  with 
as  much  distinctness  as  I  could  command  :  "  Did — you — leave 
— Jaffa — to-day  ?"  He  stammered  mechanically,  through  hi? 
chattering  teeth,  "  Y-y-yes  1"  and  we  immediately  dashed  off 
at  a  gallop  through  the  bushes.  When  we  last  saw  him.  he 
'vas  standing  as  we  left  him,  apparently  not  yet  recovered 
from  the  shock. 

At  the  little  village  of  El  Haram,  where  we  spent  the 
night,  I  visited  the  tomb  of  Sultan  Ali  ebn-Aleym.  who  is  now 
revered  as  a  saint.  It  is  enclosed  in  a  mosque,  crowning  the 
top  of  a  hill.  I  was  admitted  into  the  court-yard  without 
hesitation,  though,  from  the  porter  styling  me  "Effendi,"  he 
probably  took  me  for  a  Turk.  At  the  entrance  to  the  inner 
court,  I  took  off  ray  slippers  and  walked  to  the  tomb  of  the 
Sultan — a  square  heap  of  white  marble,  in  a  small  marblo 
enclosure.  In  one  of  tlic  niches  in  the  wall,  near  the  tomb, 
there  is  a  very  old  iron  box,  with  a  slit  in  the  top.  The  por 
ter  informed  me  that  it  contained  a  charm,  belonging  to  Sul 
tan  Ali,  which  was  of  great  use  in  producing  rain  in  times  of 
drouth. 

In  the  morning  we  sent  our  baggage  by  a  short  road  across 
the  country  to  this  place,  and  then  rode  down  the  beacb 
towards  Jaffa.  The  sun  came  out  bright  and  hot  as  we  paced 
along  the  line  of  spray,  our  horses'  feet  sinking  above  the  fet- 
locks in  pink  and  purple  shells,  while  the  drol?  sea-crabs  scam- 
pered away  from  our  path,  and  the  blue  gelatinous  sea-nettle* 


46  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEX. 

were  tossed  before  us  by  the  surge.  Our  view  was  confined  to 
the  sand-hills — sometimes  covered  with  a  flood  of  scarlet  pop- 
pies— on  one  hand;  and  to  the  blue,  surf-fringed  sea  on  the 
other.  The  terrible  coast  was  still  lined  with  wrecks,  and 
just  before  reaching  the  town,  we  passed  a  vessel  of  some  two 
hundred  tons,  recently  cast  ashore,  with  her  strong  hull  still 
Dnbroken.  We  forded  the  rapid  stream  of  El  Anjeh,  which 
comes  down  from  the  Plain  of  Sharon,  the  water  rising  to  our 
saddles.  The  low  promontory  in  front  now  broke  into  towers 
and  white  domes,  and  great  masses  of  heavy  walls.  The 
aspect  of  Jaffa  is  exceedingly  picturesque.  It  is  built  on  a 
bill,  and  the  land  for  many  miles  around  it  being  low  and  flat, 
its  topmost  houses  overlook  all  the  fields  of  Sharon.  The  old 
harbor,  protected  by  a  reef  of  rocks,  is  on  the  north  side  of 
the  town,  but  is  now  so  sanded  up  that  large  vessels  cannot 
eiiter.  A  number  of  small  craft  were  lying  close  to  the  shore. 
The  port  presented  a  diS"erent  scene  when  the  ships  of  Hiram, 
King  of  Tyre,  came  in  with  the  materials  for  the  Temple  of 
Solomon.  There  is  but  one  gate  on  the  land  side,  which 
is  raiber  strongly  fortified.  Outside  of  this  there  is  an  open 
space,  which  we  found  filled  with  venders  of  oranges  and  vege- 
tables, camel-men  and  the  like,  some  vociferating  iu  loud  dis- 
pute, some  given  up  to  silence  and  smoke,  under  the  shade  of 
the  sycamores. 

We  rode  under  the  heavily  arched  and  towered  gateway, 
and  entered  the  bazaar.  The  street  was  crowded,  and  tliere 
was  such  a  confusion  of  camels,  donkeys,  and  men,  that 
we  made  our  way  with  diflQculty  along  the  only  practicable 
street  in  the  city,  to  the  sea-side,  where  Francois  pointed  out 
a  bole  m  the  wall  as  the  veritable  spot  where  Jonah  was  ww» 


JAFFA.  47 

ashore  by  the  whale.  This  part  of  the  harbor  is  the  recej^ 
tacle  of  all  the  offal  of  the  town  ;  and  I  do  not  wonder 
that  the  whale's  stomach  should  have  turned  on  approaching 
it.  The  sea-street  was  filled  with  raercliauts  and  traders,  an(J 
we  were  oblig'ed  to  pick  our  way  between  bars  of  iron,  skins 
of  oil,  heaps  of  oranges,  and  piles  of  building  timber.  At  last 
we  reached  the  end,  and,  as  there  was  no  other  thoroughfare, 
returned  the  same  way  we  went,  passed  out  the  gate,  and  took 
the  road  to  Rami  eh  and  Jerusalem. 

But  1  hear  the  voice  of  Francois,  announcing,  "  Messieurs,  It 
diner  est  prei."  We  are  encamped  just  beside  the  pool  of 
Raraleh,  and  the  mongrel  cliildren  of  the  town  are  making 
a  great  noise  in  the  meadow  below  it.  Our  horses  are  enjoy- 
ing their  barley  ;  and  Mustapha  stands  at  the  tent-door  tying 
up  his  sacks.  Dogs  are  barking  and  doukcys  braying  all 
along  the  borders  of  the  town,  whose  filth  and  dilapidation 
are  happily  concealed  by  the  fig  and  olive  gardens  which  sur- 
round it.  I  have  not  curiosity  enough  to  visit  the  Greek  and 
Latin  Convents  embedded  in  its  foul  purlieus,  but  content 
myself  with  gazing  from  my  door  upon  the  blue  hills  of 
Palestine,  which  we  must  cross  to-morrow,  ou  our  way  to 
Jerusalem. 


i8  THE    LANon    OP    TUE    SARACBW. 


CHAPTER    III. 

FROM     JAFFA    TO    JERUSALEM. 

rho  Gulden  of  Jaffa— Breakfast  at  a  Fountain— The  Plain  of  Sharon— Tlie  Rulnsd 
Mcaque  of  Ramleh— A  Judean  Landscape— The  Streets  of  Ramleh— Ara  1  in  Pb1b» 
tine?— A  Heavenly  Morning— The  Land  of  Milk  and  Honey— Entering  the  Hill- 
Country— The  Pilgrim's  Breakfast- The  Father  of  Lies— A  Church  of  the  Cnisaden 
—The  Agriculture  of  the  Hills— The  Valley  of  Elah— Day-Dreams— The  Wildernew 
—The  Approach — AVe  see  the  Holy  City. 

"  Through  the  air  sublime, 

Over  the  wiliK-niess  and  o'er  tlie  plain ; 
Till  underneath  them  'air  JerusaLeui, 
The  Holy  City,  lifted  high  her  towers." 

PiEAPlSE   ReOAIMKO. 

Jkkdsalbm,  Thursday,  Aj>ril  29, 1868. 

Leaving  the  gate  of  Jaffa,  we  rode  eastward  between  delight- 
ful gardens  of  fig,  citron,  orange,  pomegranate  and  palm.  The 
countrj  for  several  miles  around  the  city  is  a  complete  level — 
part  of  the  great  plain  of  Sharon — and  the  gray  mass  of 
building  crowning  the  little  promontory,  is  the  only  landiTiark 
iecu  above  the  green  garden-land,  on  looking  towards  the  sea 
I'hc  road  was  lined  witli  hedges  of  giant  cactus,  now  in  blos- 
som, and  shaded  occasionally  with  broad-armed  sycamores 
The  orange  trees  were  in  bloom,  and  at  the  same  time  laden 
iown  with  ripe  fruit.  The  oranges  of  Jaffa  are  the  finest  iii 
jyria,  and  great  numbers  of  them  are  sent  to  Ceyrout  aud 


THE     PLAIN     OF     SHARON.  45 

Other  ports  further  north.  The  dark  fcliage  of  the  potne- 
^anate  fairly  blazed  with  its  heavy  scarlet  blossoms,  aid  hero 
and  there  a  cluster  of  roses  made  good  the  Scriptural  renown 
of  those  of  Sharon.  The  road  was  filled  with  people,  passing 
to  and  fro,  and  several  families  of  Jaffa  Jews  were  having  a 
sort  of  pic-nic  in  the  choice  shady  spots. 

Ere  long  we  came  to  a  fountain,  at  a  point  where  two  road 
met.  It  was  a  large  square  structure  of  limestone  and  marble, 
with  a  stone  trough  in  front,  and  a  delightful  open  chamber  at 
the  side.  The  space  in  front  was  shaded  with  immense  syca- 
more trees,  to  which  we  tied  our  horses,  and  then  took  our  seats 
in  the  window  above  the  fountain,  where  the  Greek  brought  us 
our  breakfast.  The  water  was  cool  and  delicious,  as  were  our 
JafiFa  oranges.  It  was  a  charming  spot,  for  as  we  sat  we  could 
look  under  the  boughs  of  the  great  trees,  and  down  between 
the  gardens  to  Jaffa  and  the  Mediterranean.  After  leaving 
the  gardens,  we  came  upon  the  great  plain  of  Sharon,  on  which 
wo  could  see  the  husbandmen  at  work  far  and  near,  ploughing 
and  sowing  their  grain.  In  some  instances,  the  two  operations 
were  made  simultaneously,  by  having  a  sort  of  funnel  attached 
to  the  plough-handle,  running  into  a  tube  which  entered  the 
earth  just  behind  the  share.  The  man  held  the  plough  with 
one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  dropped  the  requisite  quan- 
tity of  seed  through  the  tube  into  the  furrow.  The  people  are 
ploughing  now  for  their  summer  crops,  and  the  wheat  and  Dar 
ley  wliich  thoy  sowed  last  winter  are  already  in  full  head.  On 
other  parts  of  the  plain,  there  were  large  flocks  of  sheep  and 
goatS;  with  their  attendant  shepherds.  So  ran  the  rich  lamV 
Bcape,  broken  only  by  belts  of  olive  trees,  to  the  far  hills  of 
Judea 


60  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Riding  on  over  the  long,  low  swells,  fragrant  with  wild 
tliyme  and  camomile,  we  saw  at  last  the  tower  of  Ramleh,  and 
down  the  valley,  an  hour's  ride  to  the  north-east,  the  minaret 
of  Ludd,  the  ancient  Lydda.  Still  further,  I  could  see  tho 
liouses  of  the  village  of  Sharon,  embowered  in  olives.  Ramleh 
is  built  along  the  crest  and  on  the  eastern  slope  of  a  low  hill, 
an«i  at  a  distance  appears  like  a  stately  place,  but  this  impres- 
sion is  immediately  dissipated  on  entering  it.  West  of  the 
town  is  a  large  square  tower,  between  eighty  and  ninety  feet  in 
height.  We  rode  up  to  it  through  an  orchard  of  ancient  olive 
trees,  and  over  a  field  of  beans.  The  tower  is  evidently  a  min- 
aret, as  it  is  built  in  the  purest  Saracenic  style,  and  is  sur- 
rounded by  the  ruins  of  a  mosque.  I  have  rarely  seen  any- 
thing more  graceful  than  the  ornamental  arches  of  the  upper 
portions.  Over  the  door  is  a  lintel  of  white  marble,  with  an 
Arabic  inscription.  The  mosque  to  which  the  tower  is  attached 
B  almost  entirely  destroyed,  and  only  part  of  the  arches  of  a 
corridor  around  three  sides  of  a  court-yard,  vv'th  the  fountain 
in  the  centre,  still  remain.  The  subterranean  cisterns,  inider 
the  court-yard,  amazed  me  with  their  extent  and  magnitndo. 
They  are  no  less  than  twenty-four  feet  deep,  and  covered  by 
twenty-four  vaulted  ceiUngs,  each  twelve  feet  square,  and  rest- 
ing on  massive  pillars.  The  mosque,  when  entire,  must  have 
been  one  of  the  finest  in  Syria. 

We  clambered  over  the  broken  stones  cumbering  the  entrance, 
and  mounted  the  steps  to  the  very  summit.  The  view  reached 
from  Jaffa  and  the  sea  to  the  mountains  near  Jerusalem,  and 
southward  to  the  plaia  of  Ascalon — a  great  expanse  of  grain 
and  grazing  land,  all  Vjlossoraing  as  the  rose,  and  dotted,  espe- 
cially near  the  mountains,  with  dark,  luxuriant  olive-grovei 


AM     I     IN     PALESTINE?  61 

The  landscape  had  something  of  the  green,  pastoral  hcauty  of 
England,  except  the  mountains,  which  were  wholly  of  Palestine 
The  shadows  of  fleecy  clouds,  drifting  slowly  from  east  to  west, 
moved  across  the  landscape,  which  became  every  moment  fcofte 
and  fairer  in  the  light  of  the  dccliiUMg  sun. 

I  did  not  tarry  in  Ilauileh.  The  streets  are  narrow,  crooked, 
and  filthy  as  only  an  Oriental  town  can  be.  The  houses  have 
either  flat  roofs  or  domes,  out  of  the  crevices  in  which  springs 
a  plentiful  crop  of  weeds.  Some  yellow  dogs  barked  at  us  as 
we  passed,  children  in  tattered  garments  stared,  and  old  tur- 
baned  heads  were  raised  from  the  pipe,  to  guess  who  the  two 
brown  individuals  might  be,  and  why  they  were  attended  by 
Buch  a  fierce  cawass.  Passing  through  the  eastern  gate,  we 
were  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  our  tents,  already  pitched  in 
the  uioadow  beside  the  cistern.  Dervish  had  arrived  an  hour 
before  us,  and  had  everything  ready  for  the  sweet  lounge  of  an 
hour,  to  which  we  treat  ourselves  after  a  day's  ride.  I  watched 
the  evening  fade  away  over  the  blue  hills  before  us,  and  tried 
to  convince  myself  that  I  should  reach  Jerusalem  on  the  mor- 
row. Reason  said  :  "  You  certainly  will  1" — but  to  Faith  the 
Holy  City  was  as  far  off  as  ever.  Was  it  posuiblc  that  I  wag 
in  Judea  ?  Was  this  the  Holy  Laud  of  the  Crusades,  the  soil 
hallowed  by  the  feet  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles  ?  I  must 
believe  it.  Yet  it  seemed  once  that  if  I  ever  trod  that  earth, 
then  beneath  my  feet,  there  would  be  thenceforth  a  consecra- 
tiou  in  my  life,  a  holy  essence,  a  purer  inspiration  on  the  lips, 
a  surer  faith  in  the  heart.  And  because  I  was  not  other  than 
1  had  been,  I  half  doubted  whether  it  was  the  Palestine  of 
my  dreams. 

A  number  of  Arab  cameleers,  who  had  come  with  travellers 


52  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

across  t]\e  Desert  from  Egypt,  were  encamped  near  us.  Fran- 
cois was  suspicious  of  some  of  them,  and  therefore  divided  the 
night  into  three  watches,  which  were  kept  by  himself  and  our 
two  men.  Mustapha  was  the  last,  and  kept  not  only  himself 
but  myself,  wide  awake  by  his  dolorous  chants  of  love  and  reli- 
gion. I  fell  sound  asleep  at  dawn,  but  was  roused  before 
sunrise  by  Frangois,  who  wished  to  start  betimes,  on  account 
of  the  rugged  road  we  had  to  travel.  The  morning  was 
mild,  clear,  and  balmy,  and  we  were  soon  packed  and  in 
motion.  Leaving  the  baggage  to  follow,  we  rode  ahead 
over  the  fertile  fields.  The  wheat  and  poppies  were  glistening 
with  dew,  birds  sang  among  the  fig-trees,  a  cool  breeze  came 
down  from  the  hollows  of  the  hills,  and  my  blood  leaped 
as  nimbly  and  joyously  as  a  young  hart  on  the  mountains  of 
Bether. 

Between  Ramleh  and  the  hill-country,  a  distance  of  about 
eight  miles,  is  the  rolling  plaiu  of  Arimathea,  and  this,  as  well 
as  the  greater  part  of  the  plain  of  Sharon,  is  one  of  the  richest 
districts  in  the  world.  The  soil  is  a  dark-brown  loam,  and, 
without  manure,  produces  annually  superb  crops  of  wheat  and 
barley.  We  rode  for  miles  through  a  sea  of  wheat,  waving 
far  and  wide  over  the  swells  of  land.  The  tobacco  in  the  field<» 
about  Ramleh  was  the  most  luxuriant  I  ever  saw,  and  the 
olive  and  fig  attain  a  size  and  lusty  strength  wholly  unknown 
in  Italy.  Judea  cursed  of  God  I  what  a  misconception,  nut 
only  of  God's  mercy  and  beneficence,  but  of  the  actual  fact  I 
Q  ive  Palestine  into  Christian  hands,  and  it  will  again  flow  with 
milk  and  honey.  Except  some  parts  of  Asia  Minor,  no  por- 
tion of  the  Levant  is  capable  of  yielding  such  a  harvest  of 
ijraii ,  silk,  wool,  fruits,  oil,  and  wine.     The  great  disadvantag€ 


ENTERING     THE     HILL-CODNTRY.  f)3 

under  which  tho  country  labors,  is  its  frequent  drouths, 
but  yscve  the  soil  more  generally  cultivated,  and  the  old 
orchards  replanted,  these  would  neither  be  so  frequent  nor  so 
sovere. 

AVe  gradually  ascended  the  hills,  passing  one  or  two  villages, 
iniljedded  in  gro'^es  of  olives.  In  the  little  valleys,  slanting 
down  to  the  plains,  the  Arabs  were  still  ploughing  and  sowing, 
singing  the  while  an  old  love-song,  with  its  chorus  of  "  ya, 
ghazalet!  ya,  ghazalec!"  (oh,  gazelle  I  oh,  gazelle!)  The  valley 
narrowed,  the  lowlands  behind  us  spread  out  broader,  and  in 
half  an  hour  more  we  were  threading  a  narrow  pass,  between 
stony  hills,  overgrown  with  ilex,  myrtle,  and  dwarf  oak.  The 
wild  purple  rose  of  Palestine  blossomed  on  all  sides,  and  a  fra- 
grant white  honeysuckle  in  some  places  hung  from  the  rocks. 
The  path  was  terribly  rough,  and  barely  wide  enough  for  two 
persons  on  horseback  to  pass  each  other.  We  met  a  few  pil- 
grims returning  from  Jerusalem,  and  a  straggling  company  of 
armed  Turks,  who  had  such  a  piratical  air,  that  without  the 
solemn  asseveration  of  Francois  that  the  road  was  quite  safe, 
I  should  have  felt  uneasy  about  our  baggage.  Most  of  the 
persons  we  passed  were  Mussulmen,  few  of  whom  gave  the 
customary  "  Peace  be  with  you  I"  but  once  a  Syrian  Christian 
saluted  me  with,  "  God  go  with  you,  O  Pilgrim  I"  For 
two  hours  after  entering  the  mountains,  there  was  scarcely 
a  sign  o^  cultivation.  Tlie  rock  was  limestone,  or  marble, 
lying  in  horizontal  strata,  the  broken  edges  of  which  rose  like 
terraces  to  the  summits.  These  shelves  were  so  covered  with 
wild  shrubs — in  some  places  even  with  rows  of  olive  trees — 
that  to  me  they  had  not  the  least  appearance  of  that  desol* 
lioii  so  generally  ascribed  to  them. 


54  THE  LANDS  OF  THK  SARACMN. 

lu  a  little  dell  among  the  hills  there  is  a  small  ruined  mosque, 
or  chapel  (I  could  not  decide  which),  shaded  by  a  group  of 
magnificent  terebinth  trees.  Several  Arabs  were  resting  in  its 
shade,  and  we  hoped  to  find  there  the  water  we  were  looking 
for,  in  order  to  make  breakfast.  But  it  was  not  to  be  found, 
and  we  climbed  nearly  to  the  summit  of  the  first  chain  of  hills, 
where  in  a  small  olive  orchard,  there  was  a  cistern,  filled  bj 
the  late  rains.  It  belonged  to  two  ragged  boys,  who  brought 
us  an  earthen  vessel  of  the  water,  and  then  asked,  "  Shall  wo 
bring  you  milk,  0  Pilgrims  I"  I  assented,  and  received  a  small 
jug  of  thick  buttermilk,  not  remarkably  clean,  but  very  refresh- 
ing. My  companion,  who  had  not  recovered  from  his  horror  at 
finding  that  the  inhabitants  of  Ramleh  washed  themselves  in 
the  pool  which  supplied  us  and  them,  refused  to  touch  it.  We 
made  but  a  short  rest,  for  it  was  now  nearly  noon,  and  there 
were  yet  many  rough  miles  between  us  and  Jerusalem.  We 
c^-ossed  the  first  chain  of  mountains,  rode  a  short  distance  over 
a  stony  upland,  and  then  descended  into  a  long  cultivated 
valley,  running  to  the  eastward.  At  the  end  nearest  us 
appeared  the  village  of  Aboo  '1  Ghosh  (the  Father  of  Lies), 
which  takes  its  name  from  a  noted  Bedouin  shekh,  who  distin- 
guished himself  a  few  years  ago  by  levying  contributions  on 
travellers.  He  obtained  a  large  sum  of  money  in  this  way, 
V)ut  as  he  added  murder  to  robbery,  and  fell  upon  Turks  asj 
well  as  Christians,  he  was  finally  captured,  and  is  now  expi 
ating  his  offences  in  some  mine  on  the  coast  of  the  Black 
Sea. 

Near  the  bottom  of  the  village  there  is  a  large  ruined  build- 
ing, now  used  as  a  stable  fcy  the  inhabitants.  The  interior  ig 
divided  into  a  nave  and  two  side-aisles  by  rows  cf  square 


ACmCULTURE     OF     TOE     HII.I.S.  55 

pillars,  frDm  which  spring  pointed  arches.  The  door-way  is  at 
the  side,  and  is  Gothic,  with  a  dash  of  Saracenic  in  the  orna- 
nieutal  mouldings  above  it.  Tlie  hirge  window  at  the  extremity 
of  the  nave  is  remarkable  for  liaving  round  arches,  which  circum- 
stance,  together  with  the  traces  of  arabesque  painted  ornaments 
on  the  columns,  led  me  to  think  it  might  have  been  a  mosque  ; 
but  Dr,  Robinson,  who  is  now  here,  considers  it  a  Christian 
church,  of  the  time  of  the  Crusaders.  Tiie  village  of  Aboo  '1 
Gliosh  is  said  to  be  the  site  of  the  birth-place  of  the  Prophet 
Jeremiah,  and  I  can  well  imagine  it  to  have  been  the  case. 
The  aspect  of  the  mountain-country  to  the  east  and  north-east 
would  explain  the  savage  dreariness  of  his  lamentations.  The 
whole  valley  in  which  tlie  village  stands,  as  well  as  another 
which  joins  it  on  the  east,  is  most  assiduously  cultivated.  The 
ptony  mountain  sides  are  wrought  into  terraces,  where,  in  spite 
of  soil  which  resembles  an  American  turnpike,  patches  of 
wheat  are  growing  luxuriantly,  and  olive  trees,  centuries  old, 
hold  on  to  the  rocks  with  a  clutch  as  hard  and  bony  as  the 
hand  of  Death.  In  the  bed  of  the  valley  the  fig  tree  thrives, 
and  sometimes  the  vine  and  fig  grow  together,  forming  tho 
patriarchal  arbor  of  shade  familiar  to  us  all.  The  shoots  of 
the  tree  are  still  young  and  green,  but  the  blossoms  of  the 
grape  do  not  yet  give  forth  their  goodly  savor.  I  did  not  hear 
the  voice  of  the  turtle,  but  a  nightingale  sang  in  the  briery 
thickets  by  the  brook  side,  as  we  passed  along. 

Climbing  out  of  this  valley,  we  descended  by  a  stony  stair- 
case, as  rugged  as  the  Ladder  of  Tyre,  into  the  Wady  Beit 
Ilaniueh  Here  wp.c  j^ardons  of  oranges  in  blossom,  with 
orchards  of  quinco  >a<i  apple,  overgrown  with  vines,  and  the 
fragrant  hawtlj'^?''.    jree,   snowy   with   its   bloom.      A   stone 


66  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

bridge,  the  only  one  on  the  road,  crosses  the  dry  bed  of  a 
winter  stream,  and,  looking  up  the  glen,  I  saw  the  Ara': 
village  of  Kulonieh,  at  the  entrance  of  the  valley  of  Elah, 
glorious  with  the  memories  of  the  shepherd-boy,  David.  Our 
road  turned  off  to  the  right,  and  commenced  ascending  a  long, 
dry  glen  between  mountains  which  grew  more  sterile  the 
further  we  .vent.  It  was  nearly  two  hours  past  noon,  the  sun 
fiercely  hot,  and  our  horses  were  nigh  jaded  out  with  the  rough 
road  and  our  impatient  spurring.  I  began  to  fancy  we  could 
Bee  Jerusalem  from  the  top  of  the  pass,  and  tried  to  think  of 
the  ancient  days  of  Judea.  But  it  was  in  vain.  A  newer 
pic  cure  shut  them  out,  and  banished  even  the  diviner  imageiS 
of  Our  Saviour  and  His  Disciples.  Heathen  that  I  was,  1 
could  only  think  of  Godfrey  and  the  Crusaders,  toiling  up  the 
same  path,  and  the  ringing  lines  of  Tasso  vibrated  constantly 
in  my  ear  : 

'  Ecco  apparir  Gierusalemm'  si  vede ; 
Ecco  additar  Gierusalemm'  si  scorge  ; 
Ecco  da  mille  voci  unitamente, 
Gierusalemme  salutar  si  seate !" 

The  Palestine  of  the  Bible — the  Land  of  Promise  to  the 
Israelites,  the  land  of  Miracle  and  Sacrifice  to  the  Apostles 
and  their  followers — still  slept  in  the  unattainable  distance, 
under  a  sky  of  bluer  and  more  tranquil  loveliness  than  that  to 
whose  cloudless  vault  I  looked  up.  It  lay  as  far  and  beautiful 
as  it  once  seemed  to  the  eye  of  childhood,  and  the  swords  of 
Seraphim  kept  profane  feet  from  its  sacred  hills.  But  these 
rough  rocks  around  me,  these  dry,  fiery  hollows,  these  thickets 
of  ancient  oak  and  ilex,  bad  heard  the  trumpets  of  the  Middle 


THB     AITROACH     TO     THE     HOLT     CIIV,  51 

Ages,  and  the  clang  and  clatter  of  European  armor — I  could 
feel  and  belicvo  that.  I  entered  the  ranks  ;  I  followed  the 
trumpets  and  the  holy  hymns,  and  waited  breathlessly  for  the 
mcnient  when  every  mailed  knee  should  drop  in  the  dust,  and 
every  bearded  and  sunburned  cheek  be  wet  with  devotional 
tears. 

But  when  I  climbed  the  last  ridge,  and  looked  ahead  with 
a  sort  of  painful  suspense,  Jerusalem  did  not  appear.  We 
were  two  thousand  feet  above  the  Mediterranean,  whose  blue 
we  could  dimly  see  far  to  the  west,  through  notches  in  the 
chain  of  hills.  To  the  north,  the  mountains  were  gray, 
desolate,  and  awful.  Not  a  shrub  or  a  tree  relieved  their 
frightful  barrenness.  An  upland  tract,  covered  with  white 
volcanic  rock,  lay  before  us.  We  met  peasants  with  asses,  who 
looked  (to  my  eyes)  as  if  they  had  just  left  Jerusalem.  Still 
forward  we  urged  our  horses,  and  readied  a  ruined  garden, 
surrounded  with  hedges  of  cactus,  over  which  I  saw  domea 
and  walls  in  tlie  distance.  I  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked  at 
Frangois.  He  was  jogging  along  without  turning  his  head  ; 
he  could  not  have  been  so  indifferent  if  that  was  really  the 
city.  Presently,  we  reached  another  slight  rise  in  the  rocky 
plain.  He  began  to  urge  his  panting  horse,  and  at  the  same 
instant  we  both  lashed  the  spirit  into  ours,  dashed  on  at  a 
break-neck  gallop,  round  tlie  corner  of  an  old  wall  on  the  top 
of  the  hill,  and  lo  1  the  Holy  City  1  Our  Greek  jerked  both 
pistols  from  his  holsters,  and  fired  them  into  the  air,  as  we 
reined  up  on  the  steep. 

From  the  descriptions  of  travellers,  I  had  expected  to  see  iu 
Jerusalem  an  ordinary  modern  Turkish  town  ;  but  that  before 
vne,  with  its  w  ills,  fortresses,  and  domes,  was  it  not  still  the 

3* 


58  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEIT. 

City  of  David  ?  I  saw  the  Jerusalem  of  the  New  Testament 
as  I  had  imagined  it.  Long  lines  of  walls  crowned  with  a 
notched  parapet  and  strengthened  by  towers;  a  few  domes  and 
spires  above  them;  clusters  of  cypress  here  and  there;  this 
was  all  that  was  visible  of  the  city.  On  either  side  the  hilj 
sloped  down  to  the  two  deep  valleys  over  which  it  hangs.  Ou 
the  east,  the  Mount  of  Olives,  crowned  with  a  chapel  and 
mosque,  rose  high  and  steep,  but  in  front,  the  eye  passed 
directly  over  the  city,  to  rest  far  away  upon  the  lofty  moun- 
tains of  Moab,  beyond  the  Dead  Sea.  The  scene  was  grand  in 
its  simphcity.  The  prominent  colors  were  the  purple  of  those 
distant  mountains,  and  the  hoary  gray  of  the  nearer  hills.  The 
walls  were  of  the  dull  yellow  of  weather-stained  marble,  and 
the  only  trees,  the  dark  cypress  and  moonlit  olive.  Now, 
indeed,  for  one  brief  moment,  I  knew  that  I  was  in  Palestine ; 
that  I  saw  Mount  Olivet  and  Mount  Zion;  and — I  know  not 
how  it  was — my  sight  grew  weak,  and  all  objects  trembled  and 
wavered  in  a  watery  film.  Since  we  arrived,  I  have  looked 
down  upon  the  city  from  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  up  to  it 
from  the  Valley  of  Jehosaphat;  but  I  cannot  restore  the 
illusion  of  that  first  view. 

We  allowed  our  horses  to  walk  slowly  down  the  remaining 
half-mile  to  the  Jaffa  gate.  An  Englishman,  with  a  red  silk 
shawl  over  his  head,  was  sketching  the  city,  while  an  Arab 
held  an  umbrella  over  him.  Inside  the  gate  we  stumbled  upon 
an  Italian  shop  with  an  Italian  sign,  and  after  threading  a 
number  of  intricate  passages  under  dark  archways,  and  being 
turned  off  from  one  hotel,  which  was  full  of  travellers,  reached 
another,  kept  by  a  converted  German  Jew,  where  we  found  Dr. 
Robinson  and  Dr.  Ely  Smith,  who  both  arrived  yesterday.     It 


jpnusAJ^EM.  6'3 

Kounds  strange  to  talk  of  a  hotel  in  Jerusalem,  but  the  \\orld 
ia  progressing,  and  there  arc  already  three.  I  leave  to-raor 
row  for  Jericho,  the  Jordan,  and  the  Dead  Sea,  and  shall  have 
naore  to  say  of  Jerusalem  on  my  return. 


CO  THE    LANDa     OF    THE     &AP.AOEM 


CHAPTER    IV. 

TUE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  RIVER  JORDAN. 

Bargaining  for  a  Guard — Departure  from  Jerusalem — The  Hill  of  OfTence — BeU.&iy— 
Tlie  Grotto  of  Lazarus — The  Valley  of  Fire — Scenery  of  the  Wildernesa — Tlie  Hills  oi 
Engadfli — The  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea — A  Bituminous  Bath — Gallop  to  the  Jordan — 
A  watch  for  Kobbers — The  Jordan — Baptism — The  Plains  of  Jericho — The  Fountain 
of  Elislia — The  Mount  of  Temptation — Return  to  Jerusalem. 

"  And  the  spoiler  shall  come  upon  every  city,  and  no  city  sliall  escape  ;  the  valley 
bIso  shall  perish  and  the  plain  shall  be  destroyed,  as  the  Lord  hath  spoken."— 
Jkukmiah,  xlviii.  8. 

Jerdsalbm,  J/i/y  1, 1352. 

I  RETURNED  tbis  afteraooD  from  an  excursion  to  the  Dead  Sea, 
the  River  Jordan,  and  the  site  of  Jericho.  Owing  to  the 
approaching  heats,  an  early  visit  was  deemed  desirable,  and  the 
Bhekhs,  who  have  charge  of  the  road,  were  summoned  to  meet 
us  on  the  day  after  we  arrived.  There  are  two  of  these 
gentlemen,  the  Shekh  el- Arab  (of  the  Bedouins),  and  the 
Shekh  el-Fellaheen  (of  the  peasants,  or  husbandmen),  to  whom 
each  traveller  is  obliged  to  pay  one  hundered  piastres  for  an 
escort.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  sort  of  compromise,  by  which  the 
shekhs  agree  not  to  rob  the  traveller,  and  to  protect  him 
against  other  shekhs.  If  the  road  is  not  actually  safe,  the 
Turkish  garrison  here  is  a  mere  farce,  but  the  arrangemeut  ia 
vlnked  at  by  the  Pasha,  who>  of  '^ourse,  gets  his  share  of  th« 


DEPARTURE  FROM  JERUSALEM.  ft! 

100,000  piastres  wliich  the  two  scamps  yearly  levy  upon 
travellers  The  sliekhs  came  to  our  rooms,  aud  after  trying  to 
postpone  our  departure,  iu  order  to  attach  other  tourists  to  the 
same  escort,  and  thus  save  a  little  expense,  took  half  the  pay 
and  agreed  to  be  ready  the  next  moniinf^.  Unfortunately  for 
my  original  plan,  the  Convent  of  San  Saba  has  been  closed 
within  two  or  three  weeks,  and  no  stranger  is  now  admitted. 
This  unusual  step  was  caused  by  the  disorderly  conduct  of  some 
Frenchmen  who  visited  San  Saba.  We  sent  to  the  Bishop  of 
the  Greek  Church,  asking  a  simple  permission  to  view  the 
interior  of  the  Convent;  but  without  effect. 

"We  left  the  city  yesterday  morning  by  St.  Stephen's  Gate, 
descended  to  the  Valley  of  Jehosaphat,  rode  under  the  stone 
wall  which  encloses  the  supposed  Gethsemane,  and  took  a  path 
leading  along  the  Mount  of  Olives,  towards  the  Hill  of 
Ofifence,  which  stands  over  against  the  southern  end  of  the  city, 
opposite  the  mouth  of  the  Yale  of  Ilinnon.  IS^either  of  the 
Bhekhs  made  his  appearance,  but  sent  in  their  stead  three 
Arabs,  two  of  whom  were  mounted  and  armed  with  sabres  and 
long  guns.  Our  man,  Mustapha,  had  charge  of  the  baggage- 
mule,  carrying  our  tent  and  the  provisions  for  the  trip.  It  was 
a  dull,  sultry  morning  ;  a  dark,  leaden  haze  hung  over  Jerusa- 
lem, and  the  khamseen,  or  sirocco-wind,  came  from  the  south- 
west, out  of  the  Arabian  Desert.  We  had  again  resumed  the 
Oriental  costume,  but  in  spite  of  an  ample  turban,  my  face 
soon  began  to  scorch  in  the  dry  heat.  From  the  crest  of  the 
Hill  of  Offence  there  is  a  wide  view  over  the  heights  on  both 
sides  of  the  valley  of  the  Brook  Kedron.  Their  sides  are 
worked  into  terraces,  now  green  with  springing  grain,  and  tear 
the  bottom  planted  with  olive  and  fig  trees     The  upland  ridgf 


(fS  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN. 

or  watershed  of  Palestine  is  cultivated  for  a  cousiderabU 
distance  around  Jerusalem.  The  soil  is  light  and  stony,  yet 
appears  to  yield  a  good  return  for  the  little  labor  bestowed 
upon  it. 

Crossing  the  southern  flank  of  Mount  Olivet,  in  half  an  hour 
we  reached  the  village  of  Bethany,  hanging  on  the  side  of  tha 
bill.  It  is  a  miserable  cluster  of  Arab  huts,  with  not  a  building 
which  appears  to  be  more  than  a  century  old.  The  Grotto  of 
Lazarus  is  here  shown,  and,  of  course,  we  stopped  to  see  it. 
It  belongs  to  an  old  Mussulman,  who  came  out  of  his  house  with 
a  piece  of  waxed  rope,  to  light  us  down.  An  aperture  opens 
fiom  the  roadside  into  the  hill,  and  tliere  is  barely  room  enough 
for  a  person  to  enter.  Descending  about  twenty  steps  at  a 
sharp  angle,  we  landed  in  a  small,  damp  vault,  with  an  opening 
in  the  floor,  communicating  with  a  short  passage  below.  The 
vault  was  undoubtedly  excavated  for  sepulchral  purposes,  and 
the  bodies  were  probably  deposited  (as  in  many  Egyptian 
tombs)  in  the  pit  under  it.  Our  guide,  however,  pointed  to  a 
square  mass  of  masonry  in  one  corner  as  the  tomb  of  Lazarus, 
whose  body,  he  informed  us,  was  still  walled  up  there.  There 
was  an  arch  in  the  side  of  the  vault,  once  leading  to  other 
chambers,  but  now  closed  up,  and  the  guide  stated  that 
seventy-four  Prophets  were  interred  therein.  There  seems  to 
be  no  doubt  that  the  present  Arab  village  occupies  the  site  of 
Bethany;  and  if  it  could  be  proved  that  this  pit  existed  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Christian  Era,  and  there  never  had  been  any 
other,  we  might  accept  it  as  the  tomb  of  Lazarus.  On  the 
crest  of  a  high  hill,  over  against  Bethany,  is  an  Arab  village  on 
the  site  of  Bethpage. 

We  descended  into  the  valley  of  a  winter  stream,  now  Gllcd 


THE     VALLEY     OP     FIRE,  62 

witlj  patches  of  sparse  wheat,  just  beginuiug  to  ripen.  The 
mountains  grew  more  bleak  and  desolate  as  we  advanced,  and 
as  lliere  is  a  regular  descent  in  the  several  ranges  over  which 
one  must  pass,  the  distant  hills  of  the  lands  of  jNIoab  and 
Ammon  were  always  in  sight,  rising  like  a  high,  blue  wall 
against  the  sky.  The  Dead  Sea  is  4,000  feet  below  Jerusa- 
lem, but  the  general  slope  of  the  intervening  district  is  sr 
regular  that  from  the  spires  of  the  city,  and  the  Mount  ol 
Olives,  one  can  look  down  directly  upon  its  waters.  This 
deceived  me  as  to  the  actual  distance,  and  I  could  scarcely 
credit  the  assertion  of  our  Arab  escort,  that  it  would  require 
six  hours  to  reach  it.  After  we  had  ridden  nearly  two  hours, 
we  left  the  Jericho  road,  sending  Mustapha  and  a  staunch  ola 
Arab  direct  to  our  resting-place  for  the  night,  in  the  Valley  of 
the  Jordan.  The  two  mounted  Bedouins  accompanied  us  acrosi 
the  rugged  mountains  lying  between  us  and  the  Dead  Sea. 

At  first,  we  took  the  way  to  the  Convent  of  Mar  Saba,  fol- 
lowing the  course  of  the  Brook  Kedrou  down  the  Wady 
en-Nar  (Valley  of  Fire).  In  half  an  hour  more  we  reached 
two  large  tanks,  hewn  out  under  the  base  of  a  limestone  cliff, 
and  nearly  filled  with  rain.  The  surface  was  covered  with  a 
greenish  vegetable  scum,  and  three  wild  and  dirty  Arabs 
of  the  hills  were  washing  themselves  iu  the  principal  one 
Our  Bedouins  immediately  dismounted  and  followed  their 
example,  and  after  we  had  taken  some  refreshment,  we  had 
the  satisfaction  of  filling  our  water-jug  from  the  same  sweet 
pool.  After  this,  we  left  tlie  San  Saba  road,  and  mounted  the 
height  east  of  the  valley.  From  that  point,  all  signs  of  cultl 
ration  and  habitation  disappeared.  The  mountains  were  grim, 
bare,  and  frightfully  rugged.     The  scanty  grass,  coaxed  into  liff 


64  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

by  the  winter  rains,  was  already  scorched  out,  of  all  grceniieai 
some  bandies  of  wild  sage,  gnapbalium,  and  other  hardy  aro 
matic  herbs  spotted  the  yellow  soil,  and  in  sheltered  places  the 
scarlet  poppies  burned  like  coals  of  lire  among  the  rifts  c-f  thr. 
grav  limestone  rock.  Our  track  kept  along  the  higher 
ridges  and  crests  of  the  hills,  between  the  glens  and  gorges 
which  sank  on  either  hand  to  a  dizzy  depth  below,  and  were 
so  steep  as  to  be  almost  inaccessible.  The  region  is  so 
scarred,  gashed  and  torn,  that  no  work  of  man's  hand  can 
save  i*  from  perpetual  desolation.  It  is  a  wilderness  moro 
hopeless  than  the  Desert.  If  I  were  left  alone  in  the  midst 
of  it,  I  should  lie  down  and  await  death,  without  thought  or 
iope  of  rescue. 

The  character  of  the  day  was  peculiarly  suited  to  enhance 
the  impression  of  such  scenery.  Though  there  were  no  clouds, 
the  sun  was  invisible  :  as  far  as  we  could  see,  beyond  the  Jor- 
dan, and  away  southward  to  the  mountains  of  Moab  and 
the  cliffs  of  Eugaddi,  the  whole  country  was  covered  as  with 
the  smoke  of  a  furnace  ;  and  the  furious  sirocco,  that  threat- 
ened to  topple  us  down  the  gulfs  yawning  on  either  hand,  had 
DO  coolness  on  its  wings.  The  horses  were  sure-footed,  but 
now  and  then  a  gust  would  come  that  made  them  and  us 
strain  against  it,  to  avoid  being  dashed  against  the  rock  on 
one  side,  or  hurled  off  the  brink  on  the  other.  The  atmos- 
phere was  painfully  oppressive,  and  by  and  by  a  dogged 
silence  took  possession  of  our  i)arty.  After  passing  a  lofty 
peak  which  Francois  called  Djebel  Nuttar,  the  Mountain 
of  Ho  in,  we  came  to  a  large  Moslem  building,  situated  ou 
a  bleak  eminence,  overlooking  part  of  the  valley  of  the  Jordan, 
This  is  the  tomb  called  Kebbee  Moussa  by  the  Arabs,  and 


THE     SHORE     OF     THE     DEAD     SEA.  65 

believed  by  tbem  to  stand  upon  the  spot  where  Moses  died 
We  halted  at  the  gate,  but  no  one  came  to  admit  us,  though 
my  companion  thought  he  saw  a  man's  head  at  one  of  the  aper- 
tures in  the  wall.  Arab  tradition  here  is  as  much  at  fault  as 
Christian  tradition  in  many  other  places.  Ihe  true  Nebo  i& 
Eiomewhere  in  the  chain  of  Pisi^^ah;  and  though,  probably, 
I  saw  it,  and  all  see  it  who  go  down  to  the  Jordan,  yet  "  no 
man  knoweth  its  place  unto  this  day.*' 

Beyond  Nebbee  Monssa,  we  came  out  upon  the  last  heights 
overlooking  the  Dead  Sea,  though  several  miles  of  low 
hills  remained  to  be  passed.  The  head  of  the  sea  was  visible 
as  far  as  the  Ras-el-Feshka  on  the  west,  and  the  hot  fountains 
of  Callirhoe  on  the  eastern  shore.  Farther  than  this,  all  was 
vapor  and  darkness.  The  water  was  a  soft,  deep  purple  hue, 
brightening  into  blue.  Our  road  led  down  what  seemed  a  vast 
sloping  causeway  from  the  mountains,  between  two  ravines, 
walled  by  cliffs  several  hundred  feet  in  height.  It  gradually 
flattened  into  a  plain,  covered  with  a  white,  saline  incrus- 
tation, and  grown  with  clumps  of  sour  willow,  tamarisk,  and 
other  shrubs,  among  which  I  looked  in  vain  for  the  osher,  or 
Dead  Sea  apple.  The  plants  appeared  as  if  smitten  with 
leprosy;  bat  there  were  some  flowers  growing  almost  to  the 
margin  of  the  sea.  We  reached  the  shore  about  2  p.  m. 
The  heat  by  this  time  was  most  severe,  and  the  air  so  dense  aa 
to  occasion  pains  in  my  ears.  The  Dead  Sea  is  1,300  feet 
below  the  Mediterranean,  and  without  doubt  the  lowest  part 
of  the  earth's  surface.  I  attribute  the  oppression  I  fult  to  this 
fact  and  to  the  sultriness  of  the  day,  rather  than  to  any  e.xhar 
lation  from  the  sea  itself  Francois  remarketl,  however,  that 
hud  the   wind — which  by   this    time    was    veering   round    to 


66  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

the  Dorth'trast — blown  from  the  south,  we  could  scarcely  haTt 
endured  it.  The  sea  resemblcf  a  great  cauldron,  sunk  bets^eon 
monntaius  from  three  to  four  thousand  feet  in  height;  and  pro- 
bably we  did  not  experience  more  than  a  tithe  of  the  summer 
heat. 

I  proposed  a  bath,  for  the  sake  of  experiment,  but  Francois 
endeavored  to  dissuade  us.  lie  had  tried  it,  and  nothing 
could  be  more  disagreeable ;  we  risked  getting  a  fever, 
and,  besides,  there  were  four  hours  of  dangerous  travel  yet 
before  us.  But  by  this  time  we  were  half  undressed,  ant^ 
Boon  were  floating  on  the  clear  bituminous  waves.  The  beach 
was  fine  gravel  and  shelved  gradually  down.  I  kept  my 
turban  on  my  head,  and  was  careful  to  avoid  touching  the 
w^ater  with  my  face.  The  sea  was  moderately  warm  and 
gratefully  soft  and  soothing  to  the  skin.  It  was  impossible  to 
sink  ;  and  even  while  swimming,  the  body  rose  half  out  of  the 
■water.  I  should  think  it  possible  to  dive  for  a  short  distance, 
but  prefer  that  some  one  else  w^ould  try  the  experiment. 
With  a  log  of  wood  for  a  pillow,  one  might  sleep  as  on  one  of 
the  patent  mattresses.  The  taste  of  the  water  is  salty  and 
pungent,  and  stings  the  tongue  like  saltpetre.  "We  were 
obliged  to  dress  in  all  haste,  without  even  wiping  off  the 
detestable  liquid  ;  yet  I  experienced  very  little  of  that  dis- 
comfort which  most  travellers  have  remarked.  Where  the 
ekin  had  been  previously  bruised,  there  was  a  slight  smarting 
eensation,  and  my  body  felt  clammy  and  glutinous,  but  the 
bath  was  rather  refreshing  than  otherwise. 

We  turned  our  horses'  heads  towards  the  Jordan,  and  rode 
on  over  a  dry,  barren  plain.  The  two  Bedouins  at  first 
dashed  ahead  at    uU  gallop,  uttering  cries,  and  whirling  theii 


A     -WATCn     FOR     ROBBERS.  67 

lung  guns  in  the  air.  The  dust  they  raised  was  blown  in  oat 
faces,  and  contained  so  much  salt  that  my  eyes  began  to  smart 
painfully.  Thereupon  I  followed  them  at  an  equal  rate  of  speed 
and  we  left  a  long  cloud  of  the  accursed  soil  whirling  behind 
us.  Presently,  however,  they  fell  to  the  rear,  and  continued  to 
keej)  at  some  distance  from  us.  The  reason  of  this  was  soon 
explained.  The  path  turned  eastward,  and  we  already  saw  a 
line  of  dusky  green  winding  through  the  wilderness.  This  was 
the  Jordan,  and  the  mountains  beyond,  the  home  of  robber 
Arabs,  were  close  at  hand.  Those  robbers  frequently  cross 
the  river  and  conceal  themselves  behind  the  sand-hills  on  this 
side.  Our  brave  escort  was,  therefore,  inclined  to  put  us  for- 
ward as  a  forlorn-hope,  and  secure  their  own  retreat  in  case  of 
an  attack.  But  as  we  were  all  well  armed,  and  had  never  consi- 
dered their  attendance  as  anything  more  than  a  genteel  way 
of  buying  them  off  from  robbing  us,  we  allowed  them  to  lag  as 
much  as  they  chose.  Finally,  as  we  approached  the  Pilgrims' 
Ford,  one  of  them  took  his  station  at  some  distance  from  the 
river,  on  the  top  of  a  mound,  while  the  other  got  behind  some 
trees  near  at  hand  ;  in  order,  as  they  said,  to  watch  the  oppo- 
site hills,  and  alarm  us  whenever  they  should  see  any  of  the 
Beni  Sukrs,  or  the  Beni  Adwams,  or  the  Tyakh,  coming  down 
ipon  us. 

The  Jordan  at  this  point  will  not  average  more  than  ten 
yards  in  breadth.  It  flows  at  the  bottom  of  a  gully  about  fif- 
teen feet  d«ep,  which  traverses  the  broad  valley  in  a  most  tor- 
tuous course.  The  water  has  a  white,  clayey  hue,  and  is  very 
Bwift.  The  changes  of  the  current  have  formed  islands  and 
beds  of  soil  here  and  there,  which  are  covered  with  a  dense 
growth  of  ash,  poplar,  willow,  and  tamarisk  trees.    The  banki 


68  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEX. 

of  tlie  river  are  bordered  with  thickets,  now  overgrown  with 
wild  vines,  and  fragrant  with  flowering  plants.  Birds  sing 
continually  in  the  cool,  dark  coverts  of  the  trees.  I  found  a 
singular  charm  in  the  wild,  lonely,  luxuriant  banks,  the  tangled 
undergrowth,  and  the  rapid,  brawling  course  of  the  sacred 
stream,  as  it  slipped  in  sight  and  out  of  sight  among  the  trees 
It  is  almost  impossible  to  reach  the  water  at  any  othei 
point  than  the  Ford  of  the  Pilgrims,  the  supposed  locality 
of  the  passage  of  the  Israelites  and  the  baptism  of  Christ. 
The  plain  near  it  is  still  blackened  by  the  camp-fires  of  the  ten 
thousand  pilgrims  who  went  down  from  Jerusalem  three  weeks 
ago,  to  bathe.  We  tied  our  horses  to  the  trees,  and  prepared 
to  follow  their  example,  which  was  necessary,  if  only  to  wash  ofif 
the  iniquitous  slime  of  the  Dead  Sea.  Francois,  in  the  mean- 
time, filled  two  tin  flasks  from  the  stream  and  stowed  them  iu 
the  saddle-bags.  The  current  was  so  swift,  that  one  could  not 
venture  far  without  the  risk  of  being  carried  away  ;  but  I  sue 
ceeded  in  obtaining  a  complete  and  most  refreshing  immersion. 
The  taint  of  Gomorrah  was  not  entirely  washed  away,  but  I 
rode  ofif  with  as  great  a  sense  of  relief  as  if  the  baptism  had 
been  a  moral  one,  as  well,  and  had  purified  me  from  sin. 

We  rode  for  nearly  two  hours,  in  a  north-west  direction,  tc 
the  Bedouin  village  of  Rihah,  near  the  site  of  ancient  Jericho. 
Before  reaching  it,  the  gray  salt  waste  vanishes,  and  the  soil  ip 
covered  with  grass  and  herbs.  The  barren  character  of  the 
first  region  is  evidently  owing  to  deposits  from  the  vapors  of 
the  Dea  Sea,  as  they  are  blown  over  the  plain  by  the  south 
wind.  The  channels  of  streams  around  Jericho  are  filled  with 
nebbuk  trees,  the  fruit  of  which  is  just  ripening.  It  is  appa- 
rently indigenous,  and  grows  more  luxuriantly  than  on  the 


CAMP     AT     JERICnO.  69 

Wliite  Nilo.  It  is  a  variety  of  the  rkamnus,  and  is  set  down 
by  botanists  as  the  Spina  Christi,  of  which  the  Saviour's  mock 
crown  of  tliorns  was  made.  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  this,  as 
the  twigs  are  long  and  pliant,  and  armed  with  small,  though 
most  cruel,  thorns.  I  had  to  pay  for  gathering  some  of  the 
fruit,  with  a  torn  dress  and  bleeding  fingers.  The  little  a[)plca 
which  it  bears  are  slightly  acid  and  excellent  for  alleviating 
thirst.  I  also  noticed  on  the  plain  a  variety  of  tlie  night- 
shade^ with  large  berries  of  a  golden  color.  The  spring 
flowers,  so  plentiful  now  in  all  other  parts  of  Palestine,  have 
already  disappeared  from  the  Valley  of  the  Jordan. 

Rihah  is  a  vile  little  village  of  tents  and  mud-huts,  and  the 
only  relic  of  antiquity  near  it  is  a  scpiare  tower,  which  may 
possibly  be  of  the  time  of  Ilcrod.  There  are  a  few  gardens 
in  the  place,  and  a  grove  of  superb  fig-trees.  We  found 
our  tent  already  pitched  beside  a  rill  which  issues  from  the 
Fountain  of  Elisha.  The  evening  was  very  sultry,  and  the 
musquitoes  gave  us  no  rest.  We  purchased  some  milk  from 
an  old  man  who  came  to  the  tent,  but  such  was  his  mistrust 
of  us  that  he  refused  to  let  us  keep  the  earthen  vessel  contain- 
ing it  until  morning.  As  we  had  already  paid  the  money  to 
his  son,  we  would  not  let  him  take  the  milk  away  until  he  had 
brought  the  money  back.  He  then  took  a  dagger  from  his 
waist  and  threw  it  before  us  as  security,  while  he  carried  off 
the  vessel  and  returned  the  price.  I  have  frequently  seen  the 
Bame  mistrustful  spirit  exhibited  in  Egypt.  Our  two  Bedouins, 
to  whom  I  gave  some  tobacco  in  the  evening,  manifested  their 
gratitude  by  stealing  the  remainder  of  our  stock  during  the 
oight. 

This  morning  we  followed  the  stream   to  its  ^source,  th« 


70  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Fountain  of  Elisha,  so  called  as  being  probably  that  healed  bj 
the  Prophet.  If  so,  the  healing  was  scarcely  complete.  Tha 
water,  which  gushes  up  strong  and  free  at  the  foot  of  a  rocky 
mound,  is  warm  and  slightly  brackish.  It  sfjreads  into  a 
shallow  pool,  shaded  by  a  fine  sycamore  tree.  Just  below, 
there  are  some  remains  of  old  walls  on  both  sides,  and  the 
stream  goes  roaring  away  through  a  rank  jungle  of  canes 
fifteen  feet  in  height.  The  precise  site  of  Jericho,  I  believe, 
has  not  been  fixed,  but  "  the  city  of  the  palm  trees,"  ns  it  was 
called,  was  probably  on  the  plain,  near  some  mounds  which  rise 
behind  the  Fountain.  Here  there  are  occasional  traces  of 
foundation  walls,  but  so  ruined  as  to  give  no  clue  to  the  date 
of  their  erection.  Further  towards  the  mountain  there  are 
some  arches,  which  appear  to  be  Saracenic.  As  we  ascended 
again  into  the  hill-country,  I  observed  several  traces  of  cisterns 
in  the  bottoms  of  ravines,  which  collect  the  rains.  Herod,  as 
is  well  known,  built  many  such  cisterns  near  Jericho,  where  ho 
had  a  palace.  On  the  first  crest,  to  which  we  climbed,  there  ia 
part  of  a  Roman  tower  yet  standing.  The  view,  looking  back 
over  the  valley  of  Jordan,  is  magnificent,  extending  from  the 
Dead  Sea  to  the  mountains  of  Gilead,  beyond  the  country  of 
Ammon.  I  thought  I  could  trace  the  point  where  the  River 
Yabbok  comes  down  from  Mizpeh  of  Gilead  to  join  the  Jordau 
The  wilderness  we  now  entered  was  fully  as  barren,  but  less 
rugged  than  that  through  which  we  passed  yesterday.  The 
path  ascended  along  the  brink  of  a  deep  gorge,  at  the  bottom  of 
which  a  little  stream  foamed  over  the  rocks.  The  high,  bleak 
Bummits  towards  which  we  were  climbing,  are  considered  by 
some  Biblical  geographers  to  be  Mount  Quarantana,  the  scene 
of  Christ's   fasting   and   temptation.      After   two   hours   we 


RETURN    TO     JERUSALEM.  11 

reached  the  ruins  of  a  large  khan  or  hostlery,  under  one  of  th€ 
peaks,  which  Francois  stated  to  be  the  veritable  "  high  moun- 
taia  "  whence  the  Devil  pointed  out  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
earth.  There  is  a  cave  in  the  rock  beside  the  road,  which  the 
superstitious  look  upon  as  the  orifice  out  of  which  his  Satanic 
Majesty  issued.  We  met  large  numbers  of  Arab  families,  with 
their  flocks,  descending  from  the  mountains  lo  take  up  their 
summer  residence  near  the  Jordan.  They  were  all  on  foot, 
except  the  young  children  and  goats,  which  were  stowed 
together  on  the  backs  of  donkeys.  The  men  were  armed,  and 
appeared  to  be  of  the  same  tribe  as  our  escort,  with  whom  they 
had  a  good  understanding. 

The  morning  was  cold  and  cloudy,  and  we  hurried  on  over 
the  hills  to  a  fountain  in  the  valley  of  the  Brook  Kedroo, 
where  we  breakfasted.  Before  we  had  reached  Bethany  a  rain 
came  down,  and  the  sky  hung  dark  and  lowering  over  Jerusa- 
lem, as  we  passed  the  crest  of  Mount  Olivet.  It  still  rains, 
and  the  filthy  condition  of  the  city  exceeds  aoything  I  have 
seen,  even  in  the  Orent. 


TH3     LANDS     OF     THE     SABACBW 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     CITY     OF     CHRIST. 

iSodem  Jerusalem — The  Site  of  the  City — Mount  Zion — Mount  Moriah — The  Tjmple — 
The  Valley  cf  Jsbosapliat — The  Olives  of  Gethsemane — The  Mount  of  Olives— Moslerr 
Tradition— Panorama  from  the  Summit — The  Interior  of  the  City — The  Popu  ation — 
Missions  and  Missionaries — Christianity  in  Jerusalem — Intolerance — The  Jjws  of 
Jerusalem — The  Face  of  Christ — The  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre — The  Holy  of 
Holies — The  Sacred  Localities — Visions  of  Christ — The  Mosque  of  Omar — The  Holy 
Man  of  Timbuctoo — Preparations  for  Departure. 

"Cut  off  thy  hair,  0  Jeru'^alem,  and  cast  it  away,  and  take  up  a  lamentation  in  high 
places;  for  the  Lord  hath  rujected  and  forsaken  the  generation  of  his  wrath.''— 
jEBeuiAH  vii.  29. 

"  Here'  pilgrims  roam,  that  strayed  so  far  to  seek 
In  Golgotha  him  dead,  who  lives  in  Heaven." 

MlLTOB. 

jERcaALEM,  Monday,  May  8, 1862. 

Since  travel  is  becoming  a  necessary  part  of  education,  and 
a  journey  through  the  East  is  no  longer  attended  with  personal 
risk,  Jerusalem  will  soon  be  as  familiar  a  station  on  the  grand 
tour  as  Paris  or  Naples.  The  task  of  describing  it  is  already 
next  to  superfluous,  so  thoroughly  has  the  topography  of  the 
city  been  laid  down  by  the  surveys  of  Robinson  and  the 
drawings  of  Roberts.  There  is  little  more  left  for  Biblical 
research.  The  few  places  which  can  be  authenticated  are 
now  generally  accepted,  and  the  many  doubtful  ones  must 
always  be  the  subjects  of  speculation  and  conjecture.    There 


MODERK    JERUSALEM.  73 

is  no  new  light  which  can  remove  the  cloud  of  uncertainties 

wherein  one  coutiiiually  wanders.  Yet,  even  rejecting  al 
these  with  the  most  skeptical  spirit,  there  still  remains  enongh 
to  make  the  place  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  every  follower  of 
Clirist.  The  city  stands  on  tlie  ancient  site  ;  the  Mouni  of 
Olives  looks  down  upon  it  ;  the  foundations  of  the  Temple  of 
Solomon  are  on  Mount  Moriah  ;  the  Pool  of  Siloara  has  still 
&  cup  of  water  for  those  who  at  noontide  go  down  to  the 
Valley  of  Jehosaphat  ;  the  ancient  gate  yet  looketh  towards 
Damascus,  and  of  the  Palace  of  Herod,  there  is  a  tower  which 
Time  and  Turk  and  Crusader  have  spared. 

Jerusalem  is  built  on  the  summit  ridge  of  the  hill-country 
of  Palestine,  just  where  it  begins  to  slope  eastward.  Isot 
half  a  mile  from  the  Jaffa  Gate,  the  waters  run  towards  the 
Mediterranean.  It  is  about  2,700  feet  above  the  latter,  and 
4,000  feet  above  the  Dead  Sea,  to  which  the  descent  is  much 
more  abrupt.  The  hill,  or  rather  group  of  small  mounts,  on 
which  Jerusalem  stands,  slants  eastward  to  the  brink  of  the 
Valley  of  Jehosaphat,  and  the  Mount  of  Olives  rises  opposite, 
from  the  sides  and  summit  of  which,  one  sees  the  entire  city 
spread  out  like  a  map  before  him.  The  Valley  of  Hinnon, 
the  bed  of  which  is  on  a  much  higher  level  than  that  of 
Jehosaphat,  skirts  the  south-western  and  southern  part  of  the 
walls,  and  drops  into  the  latter  valley  at  the  foot  of  Mount 
Zion,  the  most  southern  of  the  mounts.  The  steep  slope  at 
the  junction  of  the  two  valleys  is  the  site  of  the  city  of 
the  Jebusitcs,  the  most  ancien'  Dart  of  Jerusalem.  It  is 
now  covered  with  garden-terraces,  the  present  wall  crossing 
from  Mount  Zion  on  the  south  to  Mount  Moriah  on  the  east. 
\    little   glen,    anciently   called    the   Tyropeon,   divides   the 

4 


74  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

moauls,  and  winds  through  to  the  Damascus  Gate,  on  the 
north,  though  from  the  height  of  the  walls  and  the  position 
of  the  city,  the  depression  wliich  it  causes  in  the  mass  of 
buildings  is  not  very  perceptible,  except  from  the  latter  point. 
Moriah  is  the  lowest  of  the  mounts,  and  hangs  directly  over 
the  Valley  of  Jehosaphat.  Its  summit  was  built  up  b} 
Solomon  so  as  to  form  a  quadrangular  terrace,  five  hundred 
by  three  hundred  yards  in  dimension.  The  lower  courses  of 
the  grand  wall,  composed  of  huge  blocks  of  gray  conglomerate 
limestone,  still  remain,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that 
they  are  of  the  time  of  Solomon.  Some  of  the  stones  are  of 
enormous  size  ;  I  noticed  several  which  were  fifteen,  and  one 
twenty-two  feet  in  length.  The  upper  part  of  the  wall  was 
restored  by  Sultan  Selim,  the  conqueror  of  Egypt,  and  the 
level  of  the  terrace  now  supports  the  great  Mosque  of  Omar^ 
which  stands  on  the  very  site  of  the  temple.  Except  these 
foundation  walls,  the  Damascus  Gate  and  the  Tower  of 
Hippicus,  there  is  nothing  left  of  the  ancient  city.  The 
length  of  the  present  wall  of  circumference  is  about  two  miles, 
but  the  circuit  of  Jerusalem,  in  the  time  of  Herod,  was 
probably  double  that  distance. 

The  best  views  of  the  city  are  from  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
and  the  hill  north  of  it,  whence  Titus  directed  the  siege  which 
resulted  in  its  total  destruction.  The  Crusaders  under  God- 
frey of  Bouillon  encamped  on  the  same  hill.  My  first  walk 
after  reaching  here,  was  to  the  summit  of  the  Mount  of  Olives. 
Not  far  from  the  hotel  we  came  upon  the  Via  Dolorosa,  up 
which,  according  to  Catholic  tradition,  Christ  toiled  with  the 
cross  upon  ^ais  shoulders.  I  found  it  utterly  impossible  to 
uiiagine  that  I  was  walkmg  in  the  same  path,  and  prefened 


THE     VALLEY     OF     JEHOSArllAT.  tO 

doubting  the  traditiou.  An  arch  is  built  across  the  street  al 
the  spot  where  they  say  he  was  shown  to  the  populace. 
(JEcce  Homo.)  The  passage  is  steep  and  rough,  dcsceuding  to 
St.  Stephen's  Gate  by  the  Governor's  Palace,  which  stands  en 
the  site  of  the  houj-c  of  Pontius  Pilate.  Here,  in  the  N\all 
forming  the  northern  part  of  the  foundation  of  the  temple, 
there  are  some  very  fine  remains  of  ancient  workmanship 
From  the  city  wall,  the  ground  descends  abruptly  to  the 
Valley  of  Jehosaphat.  The  Turkish  residents  have  their 
tombs  on  the  city  side,  just  under  the  terrace  of  the  mosque, 
while  thousands  of  Jews  find  a  peculiar  beatitude  in  having 
themselves  interred  on  the  opposite  slope  of  the  Mount  of 
Ohves,  which  is  in  some  places  quite  covered  with  thein 
crumbUng  tombstones.  The  bed  of  the  Brook  Kedron  is  now 
dry  and  stony.  A  sort  of  chapel,  built  in  the  bottom  of  the 
valley,  is  supposed  by  the  Greeks  to  cover  the  tomb  of  the 
Virgin — a  claim  which  the  Latins  consider  absurd.  Near  this, 
at  the  very  foot  of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  the  latter  sect  have 
lately  built  a  high  stone  wall  around  the  Garden  of  Gethsc- 
mane,  for  the  purpose,  apparently,  of  protecting  the  five  aged 
olives.  I  am  ignorant  of  the  grounds  wherefore  Gethsemane 
is  placed  here.  Most  travellers  have  given  their  faith  to  the 
Bpot,  but  Dr.  Robinson,  who  is  more  reliable  than  any  amount 
of  mere  tradition,  does  not  coincide  with  them.  The  trees  do 
not  appear  as  ancient  as  some  of  those  at  the  foot  of  Mount 
Carmel,  which  are  supposed  to  date  from  the  Roman  colony 
established  by  Titus.  Moreover,  it  is  well  known  that  at  the 
time  of  the  taking  of  Jerusalem  by  that  Emperor,  ail 
the  trees,  for  many  miles  around,  were  destroyed.  Tha 
olive-trees,   therefore,   cannot  be   those   under  which   Christ 


r6  THF  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

rested,  even  supposing  this  to  be  the  true  site  of  Getb 
semane. 

The  Mount  of  Olives  is  a  steep  and  rugged  hill,  dominating 
over  the  city  and  the  surrounding  lieights.  It  is  still  covered 
•with  olive  oroharls,  and  planted  with  patches  of  grain,  which 
do  not  thrive  well  on  the  stony  soil.  On  the  summit  is  a 
mosque,  with  a  minaret  attached,  which  affords  a  grand  pano- 
ramic view.  As  we  reached  it,  the  Chief  of  the  College  of 
Dervishes,  in  the  court  of  the  Mosque  of  Omar,  came  out  with 
a  number  of  attendants.  lie  saluted  us  courteously,  which 
would  not  have  been  the  case  had  he  been  the  Superior  of  the 
Latin  Convent,  and  we  Greek  Monks.  There  were  some 
Turkish  ladies  in  the  interior  of  the  mosque,  so  that  we  could 
not  gain  admittance,  and  therefore  did  not  see  the  rock  con- 
taining the  foot-prints  of  Christ,  who,  according  to  Moslem 
tradition,  ascended  to  heaven  from  this  spot.  The  Mohamme- 
ians,  it  may  not  be  generally  known,  accept  the  history  of 
Christ,  except  his  crucifixion,  believing  that  he  passed  to 
heaven  without  death,  another  person  being  crucified  in  his 
stead.  They  call  him  the  Roh-Allah,  or  Spirit  of  God, 
and  consider  him,  after  Mahomet,  as  the  holiest  of  the 
Prophets. 

We  ascended  to  the  gallery  of  the  minaret.  The  city  lay 
opposite,  so  fairly  spread  out  to  our  view  that  almost  every 
house  might  be  separately  distinguished.  It  is  a  mass  of  gray 
buildings,  with  dome-roofs,  and  but  for  the  mosques  of  Omar 
and  El  Aksa,  with  the  courts  and  galleries  around  them,  would 
be  exceedingly  tame  in  appearance.  The  only  other  prominent 
points  are  the  towers  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  the  citadel, 
enclosing  Herod's  Tower,  and  the  mosque  on  mount  Zion.    The 


A     SACKED     TANOUAMA.  71 

Turkish  wall,  with  its  sharp  angles,  its  square  bastions,  and 
the  long,  embrasured  lines  of  its  parapet,  is  the  most  strirfing 
feature  of  the  view.  Stony  hills  stretch  away  from  the  city 
on  all  sides,  at  present  cheered  with  tracts  of  springing  wlieat, 
but  later  in  the  season,  brown  and  desolate.  In  the  south,  tha 
conveut  of  St.  Elias  is  visible,  and  part  of  the  little  town  of 
Bethlehem.  I  passed  to  the  eastern  side  of  the  gallery,  and 
Icoking  thence,  deep  down  among  the  sterile  mountains,  beheld 
a  long  sheet  of  blue  water,  its  southern  extremity  vanishing  iu 
a  hot,  sulphury  haze.  The  mountains  of  Ammon  and  Moab, 
which  formed  the  back-ground  of  my  flrst  view  of  Jerusalem, 
leaned  like  a  vast  wall  against  the  sky,  beyond  tlie  mysterious 
eea  and  the  broad  valley  of  the  Jordan.  The  great  depression 
of  this  valley  below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean  gives  it  a 
most  remarkable  character.  It  appears  even  deeper  than  is 
actually  the  case,  and  resembles  an  enormous  chasm  or  raoat, 
separating  two  different  regions  of  the  earth.  The  khamseen 
was  blowing  from  the  south,  from  out  the  deserts  of  Edom, 
and  threw  its  veil  of  fiery  vapor  over  the  landscape.  The 
muezzin  pointed  out  to  me  the  location  of  Jericho,  of  Kerak 
in  Moab,  and  Es-Salt  in  the  country  of  Ammon.  Ere  long 
the  shadow  of  the  minaret  denoted  noon,  and,  placing  his 
hands  on  both  sides  of  his  mouth,  he  cried  out,  first  on  the 
South  side,  towards  Mecca,  and  then  to  the  AVest,  and  North, 
and  East:  "God  is  great:  there  is  no  God  but  God,  and 
Mohammed  is  His  Prophet!  Let  us  prostrate  ourselves  before 
Uim  :  and  to  Ilim  alone  be  tlie  glory!" 

Jerusalem,  internally,  gives  no  impression  but  that  of  filth, 
ruin,  i)Ovcrty,  and  degradation.  There  are  two  or  three 
street*  in  the  western  or  higher  portion  of  the  city  which  are 


78  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEX 

tolerably  clean,  but  all  the  others,  to  the  very  gates  of  tin 
Iloly  Sepulchre,  are  channels  of  pestilence.  The  Jewish  Quar- 
ter, which  is  the  largest,  so  sickened  and  disgusted  me,  that  J 
should  rather  go  the  whole  round  of  the  city  walls  than  pasa 
through  it  a  second  time.  The  bazaars  are  poor,  compared 
with  those  of  other  Oriental  cities  of  the  same  size,  and  the 
principal  trade  seems  to  be  in  rosaries,  both  Turkish  and  Chris- 
tian, crosses,  seals,  amulets,  and  pieces  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 
The  population,  which  may  possibly  reach  20,000,  is  apparently 
Jewish,  for  the  most  part ;  at  least,  I  have  been  principally 
struck  with  the  Hebrew  face,  in  my  walks.  The  number  of 
Jews  has  increased  considerably  within  a  few  years,  and  there 
is  also  quite  a  number  who,  having  been  converted  to  Pro- 
testantism, were  brought  hither  at  the  expense  of  English 
missionary  societies  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  Protestant 
community.  Two  of  the  hotels  are  kept  by  families  of  this 
class.  It  is  estimated  that  each  member  of  the  community  has 
cost  the  Mission '  about  £4,500  :  a  sum  which  would  have 
Christianized  tenfold  the  number  of  English  heathen.  The 
Mission,  however,  is  kept  up  by  its  patrons,  as  a  sort  of  religi- 
ous luxury.  The  English  have  lately  built  a  very  handsome 
church  within  the  walls,  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gobat,  well  known 
by  his  missionary  labors  in  Abyssinia,  now  has  the  title  of 
Bl'ihop  of  Jerusalem.  A  friend  of  his  in  Central  Africa  gave 
me  a  letter  of  introduction  for  him,  and  I  am  quite  disa}> 
pointed  in  finding  him  absent.  Dr.  Barclay,  of  Virginia,  a 
most  worthy  man  in  every  respect,  is  at  the  head  of  the  Arn& 
rican  Mission  here.  There  is,  besides,  what  is  called  the 
"  American  Colony,"  at  the  village  of  Artos,  near  Bethlehem  : 
a  little  community  of  religious  enthusiasts,  whose  experiment? 


CnRISTIANlTY     IN     JEKUSALEIT.  19 

in  cullivation  have  met  with  remarkable  success,  and  arc  much 
Bpokeu  of  at  present. 

Whatever  g(X)d  the  various  missions  liere  may,  in  time 
at'complish  (at  present,  it  does  not  amount  to  much),  Jerusa 
lem  is  tiie  last  place  in  tiie  world  wliere  an  intelligent  heathen 
would  be  converted  to  Christianity.  Were  I  cast  here,  igno- 
rant of  any  religion,  and  were  I  to  compare  the  lives  and 
practices  of  the  difl'erent  sects  as  the  means  of  making  my 
choice — in  short,  to  judge  of  each  faith  by  the  conduct  of  its 
professors — I  should  at  ouoe  turn  Mussulman.  When  you 
consider  that  in  the  Holy  Sepulchre  there  are  nineteen  chapels, 
each  belonging  to  a  different  sect,  calling  itself  Christian,  and 
that  a  Turkish  police  is  always  stationed  there  to  prevent  tho 
bloody  quarrels  which  often  ensue  between  them,  you  may 
judge  how  those  who  call  themselves  followers  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace  practice  the  pure  faith  he  sought  to  establish. 
Between  the  Greek  and  Latin  churches,  especially,  there  is  a 
deadly  feud,  and  their  contentions  are  a  scandal,  not  only  to 
the  few  Christians  here,  but  to  the  Moslems  themselves.  I 
believe  there  is  a  sort  of  truce  at  present,  owing  to  the  settle- 
ment of  some  of  the  disputes — as,  for  instance,  the  restoration 
of  the  silver  star,  which  the  Greeks  stole  from  the  shrine  of 
the  Nativity,  at  Bethlehem.  The  Latins,  however,  not  long 
Biuce,  demolished,  vi  et  armis,  a  chapel  which  the  Greeks  com- 
menced building  on  Mount  Zion.  But,  if  the  employment  of 
material  weapons  has  been  abandoned  for  the  time,  there  is 
none  the  less  a  war  of  words  and  of  sounds  still  going  on.  Go 
into  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  when  mass  is  being  celebrated,  and 
you  can  scarcely  endure  the  din.  Jso  sooner  does  the  Grecli 
choir  begin  its  shrill  chant,  than  the  Latins  fly  to  the  assault 


go  THE     LANDS     0*     THE     SARACEN. 

They  have  an  organ,  and  terribly  does  that  organ  strain  itfi 
bellows  and  labor  its  pipes  to  drown  the  rival  singing.  Yoc 
think  the  Latins  will  carry  the  day,  when  suddenly  the  cymbala 
of  tlie  Abyssinians  strike  in  with  harsh  brazen  clang,  and,  fo. 
the  moment,  triumph.  Then  there  are  Copts,  and  Maronites, 
and  Armenians,  and  I  know  not  how  many  other  sects,  who 
must  have  their  share  ;  and  the  service  that  should  be  a  many, 
toned  harmony  pervaded  by  one  grand  spirit  of  devotion, 
becomes  a  discorcfant  orgie,  behtting  the  rites  of  Belial. 

A  long  time  ago — I  do  not  know  the  precise  number  of 
years — the  Sultan  granted  a  firman,  in  answer  to  the  applica- 
tion of  both  Jews  and  Christians,  allowing  the  members  of 
each  sect  to  put  to  death  any  person  belonging  to  the  other 
eeet,  who  should  be  found  inside  of  their  churches  or  syna- 
gogues. The  firman  has  never  been  recalled,  though  in  every 
place  but  Jerusalem  it  remains  a  dead  letter.  Here,  although 
the  Jews  freely  permit  Christians  to  enter  their  synagogue,  a 
Jew  who  should  enter  the  Holy  Sepulchre  would  be  lucky  if 
he  escaped  with  his  life.  Not  long  since,  an  English  gentle- 
man, who  was  taken  by  the  monks  for  a  Jew,  was  so  severely 
beaten  that  he  was  confined  to  his  bed  for  two  months.  What 
worse  than  scandal,  what  abomination,  that  the  spot  looked 
upon  by  so  many  Christians  as  the  most  awfully  sacred  on 
earth,  should  be  the  scene  of  such  brutish  intolerance  1  I 
never  pass  the  group  of  Turkish  officers,  quietly  smoking  their 
long  i)ii)es  and  sipping  their  coffee  within  the  vestibule  of  the 
Church,  without  a  feeling  of  humiliation.  Worse  than  the 
money-changers  whom  Christ  scourged  out  of  the  Temple,  the 
guardians  of  this  edifice  make  use  of  His  crucifixica  and 
resurrection  as  a  means  of  gain.     You  may  buy  a  piece  of  the 


THE    JEWS     OF    JERUSALEM.  81 

stone  covering  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  duly  certified  by  the 
Greek  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  for  about  $7.  At  Bethlclitra, 
which  I  vi?ited  this  morning,  the  Latin  monk  who  showed  ua 
the  manger,  the  p  t  where  12,000  innocents  were  buried,  and 
other  things,  had  much  less  to  say  of  the  sacredness  or  authen- 
ticity of  the  place,  than  of  the  injustice  of  allowing  the  Greeks 
a  share  in  its  j)Ossession, 

T  ■  2  native  Jewish  families  in  Jerusalem,  as  well  as  those 
In  other  parts  of  Palestine,  present  a  marked  difference  to  the 
Jews  of  Europe  and  America.     They  possess  the  same  physi- 
cal characteristics — the  dark,  oblong  eye,  the  jirominent  no.sQ 
the  strongly-marked  cheek  and  jaw — but  in  the  latter,  these 
traits  have  become  harsh  and  coarse.     Centuries  devoted  to 
the  lowest  and  most  debasing  forms  of  traffic,  with  the  endu- 
ranee  of  persecution  and  contumely,  have  greatly  changed  and 
vulgarized  the  appearance  of  the  race.     But  the  Jews  of  the 
Holy  City  still  retain  a  noble  beauty,  which  proved  to  my 
mind  their  descent  from  the  ancient  princely  houses  of  Israel 
The  forehead  is  loftier,  the  eye  larger  and  more  frank  in  its 
expression,  the  nose  more  delicate  in  its  prominence,  and  the 
face  a  purer  oval.     1  have  remarked  the  same  distinction  in 
the  countenances  of  those  Jewish  families  of  Europe,  whose 
members   have    devoted    themselves    to   Art    or    Literature. 
Mendelssohn's  was  a  face  that  might  have  belonged  to  the 
House  of  David. 

On  the  evening  of  my  arrival  in  the  city,  as  I  set  out  to 
walk  through  the  bazaars,  I  encountered  a  native  Jew,  whoso 
face  will  haunt  me  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  I  was  sauuteriug 
slowly  along,  asking  myself  "Is  this  Jerusalem?"  when, 
lifting  my  eyes,  they  met  those  of  Christ !     It  was  the  very 

4* 


82  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEV. 

face  which  Raphael  has  painted — the  traditional  features  of 
the  Savioir,  as  they  are  recognised  and  accepted  by  ei 
Christendom.  The  waving  brown  hair,  partly  hidden  by  a 
Jewish  cap,  fell  clustering  about  the  ears  ;  the  face  was  the 
most  perfect  oval,  and  almost  feminine  in  the  purity  of  its 
outline  ;  the  serene,  child-like  mouth  was  shaded  with  a  light 
moustache,  and  a  silky  brown  beard  clothed  the  chin  ;  but  the 
eyes — shall  I  ever  look  into  such  orbs  again  ?  Large,  dark, 
unfathomable,  they  beamed  with  an  expression  of  divine  love 
and  divine  sorrow,  such  as  I  never  before  saw  in  human  face. 
The  man  had  just  emerged  from  a  dark  archway,  and  the 
golden  glow  of  the  sunset,  reflected  from  a  vvliite  vrall  above, 
fell  upon  his  face.  Perhaps  it  was  this  trausfiguration  which 
made  his  beauty  so  unearthly  ;  but,  during  the  moment  that 
I  saw  him,  he  was  to  me  a  revelation  of  the  Saviour.  There 
are  still  miracles  in  the  Land  of  Judah.  As  the  dusk  gathered 
in  the  deep  streets,  I  could  see  nothing  but  the  ineffable 
Bweetncss  and  benignity  of  that  countenance,  and  my  friend 
was  not  a  little  astonislied,  if  not  sliocked,  when  I  said  to  him, 
with  the  earnestness  of  belief,  on  my  return  :  "  I  have  just 
peen  Christ." 

I  made  the  round  of  the  Iloly  Sepulchre  on  Sunday,  while 
the  monks  were  celebrating  the  festival  of  the  Invention  of  the 
Cross,  in  the  chapel  of  the  Empress  Helena.  As  the  finding 
of  the  cross  by  the  Empress  is  almost  the  only  authority  for 
the  places  inclosed  within  tlie  Holy  Sepulchre,  I  went  there 
inclined  to  doubt  their  authenticity,  and  came  away  with  my 
doubt  vast  J  strengthened.  The  building  is  a  confused  laby- 
rinth of  chapels,  choirs,  shrines,  staircases,  and  vaults — without 
any  definite  plan  or  any  architectural  beauty,  though  very  rich 


THE     HOLY     SEPDLCIiRE  83 

in  parts  and  full  of  picturesque  eCFects.  Golden  lamps  con- 
tinually burn  before  the  sacred  places,  and  you  rarely  visit 
the  church  \vitho\it  seeing  some  procession  of  monks,  with 
crosses,  censers,  and  tapers,  threading  the  shadowy  passages, 
from  shrine  to  shrine  It  is  astonishing  how  many  localiliea 
are  assembled  under  one  roof.  At  first,  you  are  shown  the 
Btone  on  which  Christ  rested  from  the  burden  of  the  cross  ; 
then,  the  place  where  the  soldiers  cast  lots  for  His  garments, 
both  of  them  adjoining  the  Sepulchre.  After  seeing  this,  you 
are  taken  to  the  Pillar  of  Flagellation  ;  the  stocks  ;  the  place 
of  crowning  with  thorns  ;  the  spot  where  He  met  His  mother  ; 
the  cave  where  the  Empress  Helena  found  the  cross  ;  and, 
lastly,  the  summit  of  Mount  Calvary.  The  Sepulchre  is  a 
small  marble  building  in  the  centre  of  the  church.  We  removed 
our  shoes  at  the  entrance,  and  were  taken  by  a  Greek  monk, 
first  into  a  sort  of  ante-chamber,  lighted  with  golden  lamps, 
and  having  in  the  centre,  inclosed  in  a  case  of  marble,  the 
Btone  on  which  the  angel  sat.  Stooping  through  a  low  door, 
we  entered  the  Sepulchre  itself.  Forty  lam})s  of  gold  burn 
unceasingly  above  the  white  marble  slab,  which,  as  the  monks 
say,  protects  the  stone  whereon  the  body  of  Christ  was  laid. 
As  we  again  emerged,  our  guide  led  us  up  a  flight  of  steps  to 
a  second  story,  in  which  stood  a  shrine,  literally  blazing  with 
gold.  Kneeling  on  the  marble  floor,  he  removed  a  golden 
shield,  and  showed  us  the  hole  in  the  rock  of  Calvary,  where 
the  cross  was  planted.  Close  beside  it  was  the  fissure  pro- 
duced by  the  earthquake  which  followed  the  Crucifixion.  But, 
to  ray  eyes,  aided  by  the  light  of  the  dim  wax  taper,  it  was  no 
violent  rupture,  such  as  an  earthquake  would  produce,  and  the 
rock  did  not  appear  tr  be  the  same  as  that  of  which  Jerusalem 


84  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

is  built.  As  we  turned  to  leave,  a  monk  appeared  with  a  bowl 
of  sacred  rose-water,  which  he  sprinkled  on  our  hands,  bestowing 
a  double  portion  on  a  rosary  of  sandal-wood  which  I  carried 
But  it  was  a  Mohammedan  rosary,  brought  from  Mecca,  and 
containing  the  sacred  number  of  ninety-nine  beads. 

I  have  not  space  here  to  state  all  the  arguments  for  and 
against  the  localities  in  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  none  of  them  were  authentic,  and  am  glad  tc 
have  the  concurrence  of  such  distinguished  authority  as  Dr. 
Robinson.  So  far  from  this  being  a  matter  of  regret,  I,  for 
one,  rejoice  that  those  sacred  spots  are  lost  to  the  world. 
Christianity  does  not  need  them,  and  they  are  spared  a  daily 
profanation  in  the  name  of  religion.  We  know  that  Christ  has 
walked  on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  gone  down  to  the  Pool  of 
Siloam,  and  tarried  in  Bethany;  we  know  that  here,  within 
the  circuit  of  our  vision,  He  has  suffered  agony  and  death,  and 
that  from  this  little  point  went  out  all  the  light  that  has  made 
the  world  greater'  and  happier  and  better  in  its  later  than  in 
its  earlier  days. 

Yet,  I  must  frankly  confess,  in  wandering  through  this  city 
— revered  alike  by  Christians,  Jews  and  Turks  as  one  of  the 
holiest  in  the  world — I  have  been  reminded  of  Christ,  the 
Man,  rather  than  of  Christ,  the  God.  In  the  glory  which 
overhangs  Palestine  afar  off,  we  imagine  emotions  which  never 
come,  when  we  tread  the  soil  and  walk  over  the  hallowed 
eites.  As  I  toiled  up  the  Mount  of  Olives,  in  the  very  foot- 
steps of  Christ,  panting  with  the  heat  and  the  difficult  ascent, 
I  found  it  utterly  impossible  to  conceive  that  the  Deity,  in 
human  form,  had  walked  there  before  me.  And  even  at  night, 
«s  I  walk  on  the  terraced  roof,  while  the  moon,  "  the  balmj 


VISIOKS    OF    CHRIST  85 

rnoon  of  blessed  Israel,"  restores  the  Jerusalem  of  olden  cays 
to  my  imagination,  the  Saviour  who  then  haunts  my  thouglits 
Is  the  Man  Jesus,  in  those  moments  of  trial  when  lie  felt  tlie 
weaknesses  of  our  common  humanity;  in  that  agony  of  struggle 
in  the  garden  of  Gethscraane,  in  that  still  more  bitter  cry  of 
human  doubt  and  human  appeal  from  the  cross  :  "  My  God, 
my  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me  !"'  Yet  there  is  nc 
reproach  for  this  conception  of  the  character  of  Christ 
Better  the  divinely-inspired  Man,  the  purest  and  most  perfect 
of  His  race,  the  pattern  and  tjpa  of  all  that  is  good  and  holy 
In  Humanity,  than  the  Deity  for  whose  intercession  we  pray, 
wliile  we  trample  His  teachings  under  our  feet.  It  would  be 
well  for  many  Christian  sects,  did  they  keep  more  constantly 
before  their  eyes  the  sublime  humanity  of  Christ.  How  much 
bitter  intolerance  and  persecution  might  be  spared  the  world, 
if,  instead  of  simply  adoring  Him  as  a  Divine  Mediator,  they 
would  strive  to  walk  the  ways  He  trod  on  earth.  But  Chris- 
tianity is  still  undeveloped,  and  there  is  yet  no  sect  which 
represents  its  full  and  perfect  spirit. 

It  is  my  misfortune  if  I  give  offence  by  these  remarks.  I 
cannot  assume  emotions  1  do  not  feel,  and  must  describe  Jeru- 
Balera  as  I  found  it.  Since  being  here,  I  have  read  the 
accounts  of  several  travellers,  and  in  many  cases  the  devotional 
rhapsodies — the  ecstacies  of  awe  and  reverence — in  which  they 
indulge,  strike  me  as  forced  and  affected.  The  pious  writers 
have  described  what  was  ex{)ected  of  them,  not  what  lliey 
found.  It  was  partly  from  reading  such  accounts  that  my 
anticipations  were  raised  too  high,  for  the  view  of  the  city 
'rom  the  Jaffa  road  and  the  panorama  from  the  Mount  of  Olives 
are  the  only  things  wherein  I  have  been  pleasantly  disappointed 


86  THK  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

By  far  the  most  interesting  relic  left  to  the  city  is  the  foun 
dation  wall  of  Solomon's  Temple.  The  Mosque  of  Omar- 
according  to  the  accounts  of  the  Turks,  and  Mr.  Catherwood's 
examination,  rests  on  immense  vaults,  which  are  believed  to  be 
the  substructions  of  the  Temple  itself.  Under  the  dome  of  the 
mosque  there  is  a  large  mass  of  natural  rock,  revered  by  the 
Moslems  as  that  from  which  Mahomet  mounted  the  beast 
Borak  when  he  visited  the  Seven  Heavens,  and  believed  by 
Mr.  Catherwood  to  have  served  as  part  of  the  foundation  of 
the  Holy  of  Holies,  No  Christian  is  allowed  to  enter  the 
mosque,  or  even  its  enclosure,  on  penalty  of  death,  and  even 
Jie  firman  of  the  Sultan  has  failed  to  obtain  admission  for  a 
Frank.  I  have  been  strongly  tempted  to  make  the  attempt  in 
my  Egyptian  dress,  which  happens  to  resemble  that  of  a 
moUah  or  Moslem  pr.iest,  but  the  Dervishes  in  the  adjoining 
college  have  sharp  eyes,  and  my  pronunciation  of  Arabic 
would  betray  me  in  case  I  was  accosted.  I  even  went  so  far 
as  to  buy  a  string  of  the  large  beads  usually  carried  by  a  mol- 
lah,  but  unluckily  I  do  not  know  the  Moslem  form  of  prayer, 
or  I  might  carry  out  the  plan  under  the  guise  of  religious 
f.bstraction.  This  morning  we  succeeded  in  getting  a  nearer 
view  of  the  mosque  from  the  roof  of  the  Governor's  palace. 
Francois,  by  assuming  the  character  of  a  Turkish  caicass, 
gained  us  admission.  The  roof  overlooks  the  entire  enclosure 
of  the  Haram,  and  gives  a  complete  view  of  the  exterior  of 
the  mosque  and  the  paved  court  surrounding  it.  There  is  no 
regularity  in  the  style  of  the  buildings  in  the  enclosure,  but  the 
general  effect  is  highly  picturesque.  The  great  dome  of  the 
mosque  is  the  grandest  in  all  the  Orient,  but  the  body  of  the 
«diace,  made  to  resemble  an  octagonal  tent,  and  covered  witb 


THE     MOSQUE     OF     OMAR.  87 

blue  and  white  tiles,  is  not  high  enough  to  do  it  justice.  The 
first  court  is  paved  with  marble,  and  has  four  porticoes,  each  ol 
five  light  Saracenic  arches,  opening  into  the  green  park,  which 
occupies  the  rest  of  the  terrace.  This  park  is  studded  with 
cypress  and  fig  trees,  and  dotted  all  over  with  the  Touibs  of 
shekhs.  As  we  were  looking  down  on  the  spacious  area, 
behold  1  who  should  come  along  but  Shekh  Mohammed  Senoo- 
Bee,  the  holy  mau  of  Timbuctoo,  who  had  laid  off  his  scarlet 
robe  and  donned  a  green  one,  I  called  down  to  him,  where- 
upon he  looked  up  and  recognised  us.  For  this  reason  I  regret 
our  departure  from  Jerusalem,  as  I  am  sure  a  little  persuasion 
would  induce  the  holy  mau  to  accompany  me  within  the 
mosque. 

We  leave  to-morrow  for  Damascus,  by  way  of  Xazareth  and 
Tiberius.  My  original  plan  was  to  have  gone  to  Djerash,  the 
ancient  Geraza,  in  the  land  of  Gilead,  and  thence  to  Bozrah, 
in  Djebel  Hauaran.  But  Djebel  Adjeloun,  as  the  country 
about  Djerash  is  called,  is  under  a  powerful  Bedouin  shekh, 
named  Abd-el  Azeez,  and  without  an  escort  from  him,  which 
involves  considerable  delay  and  a  fee  of  $150,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  make  the  journey.  We  are  therefore  restricted 
to  the  ordinary  route,  and  in  case  we  should  meet  with  any 
difficulty  by  the  way,  Mr.  Smith,  the  American  Consul,  who  is 
now  here,  has  kindly  procured  us  a  firman  from  the  Pasha  of 
Jerusalem.  All  the  travellers  here  are  making  preparations  to 
eave,  but  tl.cro  are  still  two  parties  in  the  Desert. 


88  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEK. 


CH AFTER   VI. 

THE    HILL- COUNTRY    OF    PALESTINE. 

Leaving  J  .rusalem— The  Tombs  of  the  Kings— EI  Bireh— The  Ilill-Countrj-— First 
View  of  Mount  Hermon — The  Tomb  of  Joseph — Ebal  and  Gerizim — The  Gai-deng  cf 
Nablous— The  Samaritans— The  Sacred  Book — A  Scene  in  the  Synagogue — Mentoi 
and  Teleraaclius — Kide  to  Samaria — The  lluins  of  Sebaste— Scriptural  Landscapes- 
Halt  at  Genin— The  Plain  of  Esdraelon— Palestine  and  California— The  Hills  of 
Nazareth— Accident— Fra  Joachim— The  Church  of  the  Virgin— The  Shrine  of  the 
Annunciation — The  Holy  Places. 

"  Blest  land  of  Judea  !  thrice  hallowed  of  song, 
Where  the  holiest  of  memories  pilgrim-like  throng: 
In  the  shade  of  thy  palms,  by  tlie  shores  of  thy  sea. 
On  the  hills  of  thy  beauty,  my  heart  is  with  thee  ! " 

J.  G.  AVUITTIER. 

Latin  Contest,  Nazareth,  Friday,  May  7, 1852. 

We  left  Jerusalem  by  the  Jaffa  Gate,  because  witbiu  a  few 
months  neither  travellers  nor  baggage  are  allowed  to  pass  the 
Damascus  Gate,  on  account  of  smuggling  operations  having 
been  carried  on  there.  Not  far  from  the  city  wall  there  is  a 
Buperb  terebinth  tree,  now  in  the  full  glory  of  its  shining  grecu 
leaves.  It  appears  to  be  bathed  in  a  perpetual  dew  ;  the 
rounded  masses  of  foliage  sparkle  and  glitter  in  the  light,  and 
the  great  spreading  boughs  flood  the  turf  below  with  a  deluge 
of  delicious  shade.  A  number  of  persons  were  reclining  on  Iho 
grass  under  it,  and  one  of  them,  a  very  handsome  Christian 
boy,  spoke  to  us  in  Italian  and  English.     I  scarcely  remember 


THE  TOMBS  OF  THE  KINGS.  89 

a  brighter  and  purer  day  than  that  of  our  departure.  Tht 
sky  was  a  sheet  of  spotless  blue  ;  every  rift  and  scar  of  the 
distant  hills  was  retouched  with  a  firmer  pencil,  ami  all  the 
outlines,  blurred  away  by  the  haze  of  the  previous  few  days, 
were  restored  with  wonderful  distinctness.  The  temperature 
was  hot,  but  not  sultry,  and  the  air  we  breathed  was  an  elixir 
of  immortality. 

Through  a  luxuriant  olive  grove  we  reached  the  Tombs  of 
the  Kings,  situated  in  a  small  valley  to  the  north  of  the  city. 
Part  of  the  valley,  if  not  the  whole  of  it,  has  been  formed  by 
quarrying  away  the  crags  of  marble  and  conglomerate  lime- 
stone for  building  the  city.  Near  the  edge  of  the  low  cliffd 
overhanging  it,  there  are  some  illustrations  of  the  ancient  mode 
of  cutting  stone,  which,  as  well  as  the  custom  of  excavating 
tombs  iu  the  rock,  was  evidently  borrowed  from  Egypt.  The 
upper  surface  of  the  rocks  was  first  made  smooth,  after  which 
the  blocks  were  mapped  out  and  cut  apart  by  grooves  chiselled 
between  them.  I  visited  four  or  five  tombs,  each  of  which 
had  a  sort  of  vestibule  or  open  portico  in  front.  The  door 
was  low,  and  the  chambers  which  I  entered,  small  and  black, 
without  sculptures  of  any  kind.  The  tombs  bear  some  resem- 
blance in  their  general  plan  to  those  of  Thebes,  except  that 
they  are  without  ornaments,  either  sculptured  or  painted. 
There  are  fragments  of  sarcophagi  in  some  of  them.  On  ihe 
southern  side  of  the  valley  is  a  large  quarry,  evidently  worked 
for  marble,  as  the  blocks  have  been  cut  out  from  below, 
leaving  a  large  overhanging  mass,  part  of  which  has  brokeq 
uff  and  fallen  down.  Some  pieces  which  I  picked  up  were  of  a 
very  fine  white  marble,  somewhat  resembling  that  of  Carrara 
The  opening  of  the  quarry  made  a  striking  picture,  the  soft 


90  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

piuk  hue  of  the  wecathor-staiacd  rock  coutrasting  exquisitely 
with  the  vivid  greeu  of  the  vines  festooning  the  entrance. 

From  the  long  hill  beyond  the  Tombs,  we  took  our  last  view 
of  Jerusalem,  far  beyond  whose  walls  I  saw  the  Church  of  the 
Nativity,  at  Bethlehem.  The  Jewish  synagogue  on  the  top  of 
the  mountain  called  Nebbee  Samwil,  the  highest  peak  in  Pales* 
tine,  was  visible  at  some  distance  to  the  west.  Notwithstand- 
ing its  sanctity,  I  felt  little  regret  at  leaving  Jerusalem,  and 
cheerfully  took  the  rough  road  northward,  over  the  stony  hills. 
There  were  few  habitations  in  sight,  yet  the  hill-sides  were 
cultivated,  wherever  it  was  possible  for  anything  to  grow. 
The  wheat  was  just  coming  into  head,  and  the  people  were  at 
work,  planting  maize.  After  four  hours'  ride,  we  reached  El 
Bireh,  a  little  village  on  a  hill,  with  the  ruins  of  a  convent  and 
a  large  khan.  The  place  takes  its  name  from  a  fountain  of 
excellent  water,  beside  which  we  found  our  tents  already 
pitched.  In  the  evening,  two  Englishmen,  an  ancient  Mentor, 
with  a  wild  young  Telemachus  in  charge,  arrived,  and  camped 
near  us.  The  night  was  calm  and  cool,  and  the  full  moon 
poured  a  flood  of  light  over  the  bare  and  silent  hills. 

We  rose  long  before  sunrise,  and  rode  off  in  the  brilliant 
morning — the  sky  unstained  by  a  speck  of  vapor.  In  the 
valley,  beyond  El  Bireh,  the  husbandmen  were  already  at  their 
ploughs,  and  the  village  boys  were  on  their  way  to  the  uncul- 
tured parts  of  the  hills,  with  their  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats. 
'I'te  valley  terminated  in  a  deen  gorge,  with  perpendicular 
walls  of  rock  on  either  side.  Our  road  mounted  the  hill  on 
the  eastern  side,  and  followed  the  brink  of  the  precipice 
through  the  pass,  where  an  enchanting  landscape  opened  upon 
us.     The  village  of  Yebrood  crowned  a  hill  which  rose  oppo 


THE    HIIX-COUNTRY.  91 

Bite,  and  the  mountain  slopes  leaning  towards  it  on  all  sidei 
were  covered  with  orchards  of  fig  trees,  and  either  rustling 
with  wheat  or  cleanly  ploughed  for  maize.  The  soil  was  a  dark 
brown  loam,  and  very  rich.  The  stones  have  been  laboriously 
built  into  terraces ;  and,  even  where  heavy  rocky  bouldere 
almost  hid  the  soil,  young  fig  and  olive  trees  were  planted  in 
the  crevices  between  them.  I  have  never  seen  more  thorough 
and  patient  cultivation.  In  the  crystal  of  the  morning  air, 
the  very  hills  laughed  with  plenty,  and  the  whole  landscape 
beamed  with  the  signs  of  gladness  on  its  countenance. 

The  site  of  ancient  Bethel  was  not  far  to  the  right  of  our 
road.  Over  hills  laden  with  the  olive,  fig,  and  vine,  we  passed 
to  Ain  el-Haramiyeh,  or  the  Fountain  of  the  Robbers.  Here 
there  are  tombs  cut  in  the  rock  on  both  sides  of  the  valley. 
Over  another  ridge,  we  descended  to  a  large,  bowl-shaped 
valley,  entirely  covered  with  wheat,  and  opening  eastward 
towards  the  Jordan.  Thence  to  Nablous  (the  Shechem  of  the 
Old  and  Sychar  of  the  New  Testament)  is  four  hours  through 
a  winding  dell  of  the  richest  harvest  laud.  On  the  way,  we 
first  caught  sight  of  the  snowy  top  of  Mount  Hermon,  distant 
at  least  eighty  miles  in  a  straight  line.  Before  reaching 
Nablous,  I  stopped  to  drink  at  a  fountain  of  clear  and  sweet 
water,  beside  a  square  pile  of  masonry,  upon  which  sat  two 
Moslem  dervishes.  This,  we  were  told,  was  the  Tomb  of 
Joseph,  whose  body,  after  having  accompanied  the  Israel'teg 
in  all  their  wanderings,  was  at  last  deposited  near  Shechem. 
There  is  less  reason  to  doubt  this  spot  than  mDst  of  the  sacred 
places  of  Palestine,  for  the  reason  that  it  rests,  not  on  Chris- 
tian, but  on  Jewisli  tradition.  The  wonderful  tenacity  with 
which  the  Jews  cling  to  every  record  or  memer  to  of  their  early 


92  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

history,  and  the  fact  that  from  the  time  of  Joseph  a  portion  ol 
them  have  always  lingered  near  the  spot,  render  it  highly 
probable  that  the  locality  of  a  spot  so  sacred  should  have  been 
preserved  from  generation  to  generation  to  the  present  time. 
It  has  been  recently  proposed  to  open  this  tomb,  by  digging 
under  it  from  the  side.  If  the  body  of  Joseph  was  actually 
deposited  here,  there  are,  no  doubt,  some  traces  of  it  remaiiiing 
It  must  have  been  embalmed,  according  to  the  Egyptian  cus 
tom,  and  placed  in  a  coffin  of  the  Indian  sycamore,  the  wood 
of  which  is  so  nearly  incorruptible,  that  thirty-five  centuries 
would  not  suffice  for  its  decomposition.  The  singular  interest 
of  such  a  discovery  would  certainly  justify  the  experiment. 
Not  far  from  the  tomb  is  Jacob's  Well,  where  Christ  met  the 
Woman  of  Samaria.  This  place  is  also  considered  as  authen 
tic,  for  the  same  reasons.  If  not  wholly  convincing  to  all, 
there  is,  at  least,  so  much  probability  in  them  that  one  is  freed 
from  that  painful  coldness  and  incredulity  with  which  he 
oeholds  the  sacred  shows  of  Jerusalem. 

Leaving  the  Tomb  of  Joseph,  the  road  turned  to  the  west, 
and  entered  the  narrow  pass  between  Mounts  Ebal  and  Geri- 
zim.  The  former  is  a  steep,  barren  peak,  clothed  with  terraces 
of  cactus,  standing  on  the  northern  side  of  the  pass.  Mount 
Gcrizim  is  cultivated  nearly  to  the  top,  and  is  truly  a  moun- 
tain of  blessing,  compared  with  i'^s  neighbor.  Through  an 
orchard  of  grand  old  olive-trees,  we  reached  Nablous,  which 
presented  a  charming  picture,  with  its  long  mass  of  white, 
dome-topped  stone  houses,  stretching  along  the  foot  of  Gerizim 
through  a  sea  of  bowery  orchards.  The  bottom  of  the  valley 
resembles  some  old  garden  run  to  waste.  Abundant  streams, 
poured  from  the  generous  heart  of  the  Mount  of  Blessing,  leap 


KABI.OUS.  03 

and  gurgle  with  pleasant  noises  through  thickets  of  orange, 
fig,  and  pomegranate,  through  bowers  of  rosea  and  tangled 
masses  of  briars  and  wild  vines.  We  halted  in  a  grove  of 
olives,  and,  after  our  tent  was  pitched,  walked  upward  through 
the  orchards  to  the  Ras-el-Ain  (Promontory  of  the  Fountain), 
on  the  side  of  Mount  Gerizim.  A  multitude  of  beggars  sat 
at  the  city  gate  ;  and,  as  they  continued  to  clamor  after  I  had 
given  sufficient  alms,  I  paid  them  with  "Allah  dcelck!" — (God 
give  it  to  you  I) — the  Moslem's  reply  to  such  importunity — 
and  they  ceased  in  an  instant.  This  exclamation,  it  seems, 
takes  away  from  them  the  power  of  demanding  a  second 
time. 

From  under  the  Ras-el-Ain  gushes  forth  the  Fountain  of 
Honey,  so  called  from  the  sweetness  and  purity  of  the  water. 
We  drank  of  it,  and  I  found  the  taste  very  agreeable,  but  my 
companion  declared  that  it  had  an  unpleasant  woolly  flavor. 
When  we  climbed  a  little  higher,  we  found  that  the  true  source 
from  which  the  fountain  is  supplied  was  above,  and  that  an 
Arab  was  washing  a  flock  of  sheep  in  it !  We  continued  our 
walk  along  the  side  of  the  mountain  to  the  other  end  of  the 
city,  through  gardens  of  almond,  apricot,  prune,  and  walnut- 
trees,  bound  each  to  each  by  great  vines,  whose  heavy  arms 
they  seemed  barely  able  to  support.  The  interior  of  the  town 
is  dark  and  filthy;  but  it  has  a  long,  busy  bazaar  extending 
its  whole  length,  and  a  cafe,  where  we  procured  the  best 
o-jfiee  in  Syria. 

jNablous  is  noted  for  the  existence  of  a  small  remnant  of  the 
ancient  Samaritans.  The  stock  has  gradually  dwindled  away, 
and  amounts  to  only  forty  families,  containing  little  more  than 
a  hundred   and  fifty  individuals.     They  live  in  a  particulai 


04 


THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACETT. 


quarter  of  the  city,  and  are  easily  distinguished  from  the  othoi 
inhabitants  by  the  cast  of  their  features.  After  our  guide,  a 
"aative  of  Nablous,  had  pointed  out  three  or  four,  I  had  no 
difficulty  'u  recognising  all  the  others  we  met.  They  have 
lone:,  but  not  prominent  noses,  like  the  Jews ;  small,  oblong 
eyes,  narrow  lips,  and  fair  complexions,  most  of  them  having 
brown  hair.  They  appear  to  be  held  in  considerable  obloquy 
by  the  Moslems.  Our  attendant,  who  was  of  the  low  class  of 
Arabs,  took  the  boys  we  met  very  unceremoniously  by  the 
head,  calling  out :  "  Here  is  another  Samaritan  I"  He  then 
conducted  us  to  their  synagogue,  to  see  the  celebrated  Penta- 
teuch, which  is  there  preserved.  We  were  taken  to  a  small, 
open  court,  shaded  by  an  apricot-tree,  where  the  priest,  an  old 
man  in  a  green  robe  and  white  turban,  was  seated  in  medita- 
tion. He  had  a  long  grey  beard,  and  black  eyes,  that  lighted 
up  with  a  sudden  expression  of  eager  greed  when  we  promised 
him  backsheesh  for  a  sight  of  the  sacred  book.  He  arose  and 
took  us  into  a  sort  of  chapel,  followed  by  a  number  of  Samari- 
tan boys.  Kneeling  down  at  a  niche  in  the  wall,  he  produced 
from  behind  a  wooden  case  a  piece  of  ragged  parchment,  writ- 
ten with  Hebrew  characters.  But  the  guide  was  familiar  with 
this  deception,  and  rated  him  so  soundly  that,  after  a  little 
hesitation,  he  laid  the  fragment  away,  and  produced  a  large  tin 
cylinder,  covered  with  a  piece  of  green  satin  embroidered  in 
gold.  The  boys  stooped  down  and  reverently  kissed  the 
blazoned  cover,  before  it  was  removed.  The  cylinder,  sliding 
open  by  two  rows  of  hinges,  opened  at  the  same  time  the 
parchment  scroll,  which  was  rolled  at  both  ends.  It  waa, 
indeed,  a  very  ancient  manuscript,  and  in  remariable  preserva- 
tion.   The  rents  have  been  carefully  repaired  and  the  scroll 


A     SCENE     IN     THE     SYNAGOGUB.  95 

neatly  stitched  upon  another  piece  of  parchment,  covered  ou 
the  outside  with  violet  satin.  The  priest  informed  me  that  it 
was  written  by  the  son  of  Aaron  ;  but  this  does  not  coincide 
with  the  fact  that  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch  is  different  frona 
that  of  the  Jews.  It  is,  however,  no  doubt  one  of  the  oldest 
parchment  records  in  the  world,  and  the  Samaritans  look  upon 
it  with  unbounded  faith  and  reverence.  The  Pentateuch, 
according  to  their  version,  contains  their  only  form  of  religion. 
They  reject  everything  else  which  the  Old  Testament  contains. 
Three  or  four  days  ago  was  their  grand  feast  of  sacrifice,  when 
they  made  a  burnt  offering  of  a  lamb,  on  the  top  of  Mount 
Gerizim.  Within  a  short  time,  it  is  said  they  have  shown 
some  curiosity  to  become  acquainted  with  the  New  Testament, 
and  the  High  Priest  sent  to  Jerusalem  to  procure  Arabic 
copies 

I  asked  one  of  the  wild-eyed  boys  whether  he  could  read  the 
sacred  book.  "  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  priest,  "  all  these  boys  can 
read  it  ;"  and  the  one  I  addressed  immediately  pulled  a  volume 
from  his  breast,  and  commenced  reading  in  fluent  Ilebrew.  It 
appeared  to  be  a  part  of  their  clmrch  service,  for  both  the 
priest  and  hoab,  or  door-keeper,  kept  up  a  running  series  of 
responses,  and  occasionally  the  whole  crowd  shouted  out  some 
deep-mouthed  word  in  chorus.  The  old  man  leaned  forward 
with  an  expression  as  fixed  and  intense  as  if  the  text  had 
become  incarnate  in  him,  following  with  his  lips  the  sound  of 
the  boy's  voice.  It  was  a  strange  picti'xe  of  religious  enthu- 
siasm, and  was  of  itself  sufficient  to  convince  me  of  the  legiti- 
macy of  the  Samaritan's  descent.  "When  I  rose  to  leave  I  gave 
him  the  promised  fee,  and  a  smaller  one  to  the  boy  who  read 
the  service.    This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  attack  from  the 


96  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

door-keeper  and  all  the  boys  who  were  present.  Thej  sur 
rounded  me  with  eyes  sparkling  with  the  desire  of  gain,  kissed 
the  border  of  my  jacket,  stroked  ray  beard  coaxingly  with  theii 
hands,  which  they  then  kissed,  and,  crowding  up  with  a  bois 
terous  show  of  affection,  were  about  to  fall  on  my  neck  in  a 
heap,  after  the  old  Hebrew  fashion.  The  priest,  clamorous  for 
more,  followed  with  glowing  face,  and  the  whole  group  had  a 
riotous  and  bacchanalian  character,  which  I  should  never  have 
imagined  could  spring  from  such  a  passion  as  avarice. 

On  returning  to  our  camp,  we  found  Mentor  and  Telemachus 
arrived,  but  not  on  such  friendly  terms  as  their  Greek  proto- 
types. We  were  kept  awake  for  a  long  time  that  night  l)y 
their  high  words,  and  the  first  sound  I  heard  the  next  morning 
came  from  their  tent.  Telemachus,  I  suspect,  had  found  some 
island  of  Calypso,  and  did  not  relish  the  cold  shock  of  the 
plunge  into  the  sea,  by  which  Mentor  had  forced  him  away. 
He  insisted  on  returning  to  Jerusalem,  but  as  Mentor  would 
not  allow  him  a  horse,  he  had  not  the  courage  to  try  it  on  foot. 
After  a  series  of  altercations,  in  which  he  took  a  pistol  to 
shoot  the  dragoman,  and  applied  very  profane  terras  to  every 
body  in  the  company,  his  wrath  dissolved  into  tears,  and  when 
we  left,  Mentor  had  decided  to  rest  a  day  at  Nablous,  and  let 
him  recover  frora  the  effects  of  the  storm. 

We  rode  down  the  beautiful  valley,  taking  the  road  to 
Sebaste  (Samaria),  while  our  luggage-mules  kept  directly  over 
the  mountains  to  Jenin.  Our  path  at  first  followed  the  course 
of  ti'e  stream,  between  turfy  banks  and  through  luxuriant 
orchards.  The  whole  country  we  overlooked  was  planted  with 
olive-trees,  and,  except  the  very  summits  of  the  mountains, 
covered   with   grain-fields.     For   two   hours   our   course   was 


THE     RUINS     OF     SAMARIA.  9*} 

aortli-east,  leading ♦ver  the  hills,  and  now  and  then  dipping  into 
beautiful  dells.  In  one  of  these  a  large  stream  gushes  from 
the  earth  in  a  full  fountain,  at  the  foot  of  a  great  olive-tree. 
The  hill-side  above  it  was  a  complete  mass  of  foliage,  crowned 
with  the  white  walls  of  a  Syrian  village.  Descending  the  val- 
ley, which  is  very  deep,  we  came  in  sight  of  Samaria,  situated 
on  the  summit  of  an  isolated  hill.  Tbc  sanctuary  of  the 
ancient  Christian  church  of  St.  John  towers  high  above  the 
mud  walls  of  the  modern  village.  Riding  between  olive- 
orchards  and  wheat-fields  of  glorious  richness  and  beauty,  we 
passed  the  remains  of  an  acqueduct,  and  ascended  the  hill 
The  ruins  of  the  church  occupy  the  eastern  summit.  Part  of 
them  have  been  converted  into  a  mosque,  which  the  Christian 
foot  is  not  allowed  to  profane.  The  church,  which  is  in  the 
Byzantine  style,  is  apparently  of  the  time  of  the  Crusaders. 
It  had  originally  a  central  and  two  side-aisles,  covered  with 
groined  Gothic  vaults.  The  sanctuary  is  semi-circular,  Mith  a 
row  of  small  arches,  supported  by  double  pillars.  The  church 
rests  on  the  foundations  of  some  much  more  ancient  building-^ 
probably  a  temple  belonging  to  the  Roman  city. 

Behind  the  modern  village,  the  hill  terminates  in  a  long, 
tliptical  mound,  about  one-third  of  a  mile  in  length.  We 
made  the  tour  of  it,  and  were  surprised  at  finding  a  large 
number  of  columns,  each  of  a  single  piece  of  marble.  They 
had  once  formed  a  double  colonnade,  extending  from  the 
church  to  a  gate  on  the  western  side  of  the  summit.  Oui 
native  guide  said  they  had  been  covered  with  an  arch,  and 
constituted  a  long  market  or  bazaar — a  supposition  in  which  he 
may  be  correct.  From  the  gate,  which  is  still  distinctly 
marked,  we  overlooked  several  deep  valleys  to  the  west,  and 

6 


98  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN, 

over  them  all,  the  blue  horizon  of  the  Mediterranean,  south  of 
Caesarea.  On  the  northern  side  of  the  hill  there  are  upwards 
of  twenty  more  pillars  standing,  besides  a  number  hurled 
down,  and  the  remains  of  a  quadrangular  colonnade,  on  the 
side  of  the  hill  below.  The  total  number  of  pillars  on  the 
summit  cannot  be  less  than  one  hundred,  from  twelve  to 
eighteen  feet  in  height.  The  hill  is  strewn,  even  to  its  base, 
with  large  hewn  blocks  and  fragments  of  sculptured  stone. 
The  present  name  of  the  city  was  given  to  it  by  Ilerod,  and  it 
must  have  been  at  that  time  a  most  stately  and  beautiful 
place. 

We  descended  to  a  valley  on  the  east,  climbed  a  long 
ascent,  and  after  crossing  the  broad  shoulder  of  a  mountain 
beyond,  saw  below  us  a  landscape  even  more  magnificent  than 
that  of  Nablous.  It  was  a  great  winding  valley,  its  bottom 
rolling  in  waves  of  wheat  and  barley,  while  every  hill  side,  up 
to  the  bare  rock,  was  mantled  with  groves  of  olive.  The  very 
summits  which  looked  into  this  garden  of  Israel,  were  green 
with  fragrant  plants — wild  thyme  and  sage,  gnaphalium  and 
camomile.  Away  to  the  west  was  the  sea,  and  in  the  north- 
west the  mountain  chain  of  Carmel.  We  went  down  to  the 
gardens  and  pasture-land,  and  stopped  to  rest  at  the  Village 
of  Geba,  which  hangs  on  the  side  of  the  mountain.  A  spring 
of  whitish  but  delicious  water  gushed  out  of  the  soil,  in  the 
midst  of  a  fig  orchard.  Tlie  women  passed  us,  going  back  and 
forth  with  tall  water-jars  on  their  heads.  Some  herd-tioya 
brought  down  a  flock  of  black  goats,  and  they  were  all  given 
drink  in  a  large  woodec  bowl.  They  were  beautiful  animals, 
with  thick  curved  horns,  white  eyes,  and  ears  a  foot  long.  It 
was  a  truly  Biblical  picture  in  every  feature. 


VAT.KSTINE     AXD     CALIFORNIA.  09 

Beyond  this  valley  we  passed  a  circular  basin,  which  has  no 
oatlet,  so  that  ia  winter  the  bottom  of  it  must  be  a  lake. 
After  winding  among  the  hills  an  hour  more,  we  came  out  upon 
the  town  of  Jenin,  a  Turkish  village,  with  a  tall  white  minaret, 
at  the  head  of  the  great  plain  of  Esdraelon.  It  is  supposed  to 
be  the  ancient  Jozreel,  where  the  termagant  Jezebel  was 
thrown  out  of  the  window.  We  pitched  our  tent  in  a  garden 
near  the  town,  under  a  beautiful  mulberry  tree,  and,  as  the 
place  is  in  very  bad  repute,  engaged  a  man  to  keep  guard  at 
night.  An  English  family  was  robbed  there  two  or  three 
weeks  ago.  Our  guard  did  his  duty  well,  pacing  back  and 
forth,  and  occasionally  grounding  his  musket  to  keep  up  his 
courage  by  the  sound.  In  the  evening,  Frangois  caught  a 
ehameleon,  a  droll-looking  little  creature,  which  changed  color 
in  a  marvellous  manner. 

Our  road,  next  day,  lay  directly  across  the  Plain  of  Esdrae- 
lon, one  of  the  richest  districts  in  the  world.  It  is  now  a 
green  sea,  covered  with  fields  of  wheat  and  barley,  or  great 
grazing  tracts,  on  which  multitudes  of  sheep  and  goats  are 
wandering.  In  some  respects  it  reminded  me  of  the  Valley 
of  San  Jose,  and  if  I  were  to  liken  Palestine  to  any  other 
country  I  have  seen,  it  would  be  California.  The  climate  and 
succession  of  the  seasons  are  the  same,  the  soil  is  very  similar 
in  quality,  and  the  landscapes  present  the  same  general 
features.  Here,  in  spring,  the  plains  are  covered  with  that 
deluge  of  Qoral  bloom,  which  makes  California  seem  a  paradise. 
Here  Ihere  are  the  same  picturesque  groves,  the  same  rar  k 
fields  of  wild  oats  clothing  the  mountain-sides,  the  same 
aromatic  herbs  impregnating  the  air  with  balm,  and  above  all, 
the  same  blue,   cloudless   days   and   dewless   nights.     While 


100  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

travelling  here,  I  am  constantly  reminded  of  our  new  Syria  oe 
the  Pacific. 

Towards  noon,  Mount  Tabor  separated  itself  from  the  chain 
of  hills  before  us,  and  stood  out  singly,  at  the  (jxtremity  of  the 
plain.  We  watered  our  horses  at  a  spring  in  a  swamp,  were 
some  women  were  collected,  beating  with  sticks  the  rushes 
they  had  gathered  to  make  mats.  After  reaching  the  moun- 
tains on  the  northern  side  of  the  plain,  an  ascent  of  an  hour 
and  a-half,  through  a  narrow  glen,  brought  us  to  Nazareth, 
which  is  situated  in  a  cul-de-sac,  under  the  highest  peaks  of 
the  range.  As  we  were  passing  a  rocky  part  of  the  road, 
Mr.  Harrison's  horse  fell  with  him  and  severely  injured  his 
leg.  We  were  fortunately  near  our  destination,  and  on  reach- 
the  Latin  Convent,  Fra  Joachim,  to  whose  surgical  abilities 
the  traveller's  book  bore  witness,  took  him  in  charge.  Many 
others  besides  ourselves  have  had  reason  to  be  thankful  for  the 
good  offices  of  the  Latin  mouks  in  Palestine.  I  have  never 
met  with  a  class  more  kind,  cordial,  and  genial.  All  the 
convents  are  bound  to  take  in  and  entertain  all  applicants — ■ 
of  whatever  creed  or  nation — for  the  space  of  three  days. 

In  the  afternoon,  Fra  Joachim  accompanied  me  to  the 
Church  of  the  Virgin,  which  is  inclosed  within  the  walls  of  the 
convent.  It  is  built  over  the  supposed  site  of  the  house  in 
which  the  mother  of  Christ  was  living,  at  the  time  of  the 
angelic  annunciation.  Under  the  high  altar,  a  flight  of  stepa 
leads  down  to  the  shrine  of  the  Virgin,  on  the  threshold  of  the 
house,  where  the  Angel  Gabriel's  foot  rested,  as  he  stood,  with 
a  lily  in  his  hand,  announcing  the  miraculous  conception.  The 
ehrine,  of  white  marble  and  gold,  gleaming  in  the  light  of 
golden  lamps,  stands  under  a  rough  arch  of  the  natoral  rock;, 


THE     SHRINE     OF     TH1-:     ANNLNCIATIO.V.  10] 

from  tlie  side  of  which  hangs  a  heavy  fragment  of  a  granite 
pillar,  suspended,  as  the  devout  believe,  by  divine  power.  Fra 
Joachim  informed  me  that,  when  the  Moslems  attempted  to 
obliterate  all  tokens  of  the  holy  place,  this  pillar  was  preserved 
by  a  miracle,  that  the  locality  might  not  be  lost  to  the  Chris- 
tians. At  the  same  time,  he  said,  the  angels  of  God  carried 
away  the  wooden  house  which  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the 
grotto  ;  and,  after  letting  it  drop  in  Marseilles,  whiie  they 
rested,  picked  it  up  again  and  set  it  down  in  Loretto,  where  it 
still  remains.  As  he  said  this,  there  was  such  entire,  absolute 
belief  in  the  good  monk's  eyes,  and  such  happiness  in  that 
i)elief,  that  not  for  ten  times  the  gold  on  the  shrine  would  I 
have  expressed  a  doubt  of  the  story.  lie  then  bade  me  kneel, 
that  I  might  see  the  spot  where  the  angel  stood,  and  devoutly 
repeated  a  paternoster  while  I  contemplated  the  pure  plate  of 
snowy  marble,  surrounded  with  vases  of  fragrant  (lowers, 
between  which  hung  cressets  of  gold,  wherein  perfumed  oils 
were  burning.  All  the  decorations  of  the  place  conveyed  tho 
idea  of  transcendent  purity  and  sweetness  ;  and,  for  the  first 
time  in  Palestine,  I  wished  for  perfect  faith  in  the  spot.  Behind 
the  shrine,  there  are  two  or  three  chambers  in  the  rock,  which 
served  as  habitations  for  the  family  of  the  Virgin. 

A  young  Christian  Xazarene  afterwards  conducted  me  to 
the  House  of  Joseph,  the  Carpenter,  which  is  now  inclosed  in 
a  little  chapel.  It  is  merely  a  fragment  of  wall,  undoubtedly 
us  old  as  the  time  of  Christ,  and  I  felt  willing  to  consider  it  a 
genuine  relic.  There  was  an  honest  roughness  about  the  large 
Btoncs,  inclosii^g  a  small  room  called  the  carpenter's  shop, 
which  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  doubt.  Besides,  iu  a 
quiet  country  *,own  like  Nazareth,  which  has  never  knowc 


102  THE  LANDS  OP  THE  SARACEN. 

Biich  vicissitudes  as  Jerusalem,  much  more  dependence  can  b€ 
placed  on  popular  tradition.  For  the  same  reason,  I  looked 
with  reverence  on  the  Table  of  Christ,  also  inclosed  within  a 
chapel.  This  is  a  large,  natural  rock,  about  nine  feot  by 
twelve,  nearly  square,  and  quite  flat  on  the  top.  It  is  said 
that  it  once  served  as  a  table  for  Christ  and  his  Disciples.  The 
building  called  the  School  of  Christ,  where  he  went  with  other 
children  of  his  age,  is  now  a  church  of  the  Syrian  Christians, 
who  were  performing  a  doleful  mass,  in  Arabic,  at  the  tme  of 
my  visit.  It  is  a  vaulted  apartment,  about  forty  feet  long,  and 
only  the  lower  part  of  the  wall  is  ancient.  At  each  of  these 
places,  the  Nazarene  put  into  my  hand  a  piece  of  pasteboard, 
on  which  was  printed  a  prayer  in  Latin,  Italian,  and  Arabic, 
with  the  information  that  whoever  visited  the  place,  and 
made  the  prayer,  would  be  entitled  to  seven  years'  indulgence 
1  duly  read  all  the  prayers,  and,  accordingly,  my  conscienos 
ouglit  to  be  at  rest  for  twenty-one  years. 


DEPARTL'RE  FROM  NAZARETH.  lOA 


CHAPTER  YII. 

THE    COUNTRY    OF    GALILEE, 

Dep;irture  from  Nazareth — A  Christian  Guide — Ascent  of  Mount  Tabor— Wallacbian 
Hermits — The  Panorama  of  Tabor — Ride  to  Tiberias — A  Cath  in  Genesareth — The 
Flowei-3  of  Galilee — Tlie  Mount  of  Beatitude— Magdala — Joseph's  Well — Meeting 
with  a  Turk — The  Fountain  of  the  Salt- Works — The  Upper  Valley  of  the  Jordan- 
Summer  Sconery — The  Rivers  of  Lebanon — Tell  el- Kadi — An  Arcadian  Region — The 
Founlaiua  of  Banias. 

"Beyond  are  Bethulia's  mountains  of  green, 
And  the  desolate  hills  of  tlie  wild  (iiidarene; 
And  I  pause  on  the  goat-crags  of  Tabor  to  see 
The  gleam  of  thy  waters,  0  dark  Galilee  !" — Whittikb. 

Basus  (Cssarea  Philippi),  J/ity  10,  1853 

We  left  Nazareth  on  the  morning  of  the  8th  inst.  My 
companion  had  done  so  well  under  the  care  of  Fra  Joachim 
that  he  was  able  to  ride,  and  our  journey  was  not  delayed  by 
his  accident.  The  benedictions  of  the  good  Franciscans  accom« 
panied  us  as  we  rode  away  from  the  Convent,  past  the  Foun- 
tain of  the  Virgin,  and  out  of  the  pleasant  little  valley  where 
the  boy  Jesus  wandered  for  many  peaceful  years.  The  Chris- 
tian guide  we  engaged  for  ]Mouut  Tabor  had  gone  ahead,  and 
we  did  not  find  him  until  we  had  travelled  for  more  than  two 
hours  among  the  hills.  As  we  approached  the  sacred  moun- 
tain, we  came  upon  the  region  of  oaks — the  first  oak  I  had 
seen  since  leaving  Europe  last  autumn.  There  are  three  or 
four  varieties,  some  with  evergreen  foliage,  and  in  their  wild 


104  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEX. 

luxariance  and  the  picturcsqueness  of  their  forms  and  grciip 
Higs,  they  resemble  those  of  Califoruia.     The  sea  of  grass  and 
flowers  in  which  they  stood  was  sprinkled  with  thick  tufts  of 
wild  oats — another  point  of»  reseiiblance  to  the  latter  30untrj„ 
But  here,  there  is  no  gold;  there,  no  sacred  memories. 

The  guide  was  waiting  for  us  beside  a  spring,  among  the 
trees,  lie  was  a  tall  youth  of  about  twenty,  with  a  mild, 
Bubmissive  face,  and  wore  the  dark-blue  turban,  which  appears 
to  be  the  badge  of  a  native  Syrian  Christian.  I  found  myself 
invol'mtarily  pitying  him  for  belonging  to  a  despised  sect. 
There  is  no  disguising  the  fact  that  one  feels  much  more 
respect  for  the  Mussulman  rulers  of  the  East,  than  for  their 
oppressed  subjects  who  profess  his  own  faith.  The  surest  way 
to  make  a  man  contemptible  is  to  treat  him  contemptuously, 
and  the  Oriental  Christians,  who  have  been  despised  for  centu- 
ries, are,  with  some  few  exceptions,  despicable  enough.  Now, 
however,  since  the  East  has  become  a  favorite  field  of  travel, 
and  the  Frank  possesses  an  equal  dignity  with  the  Moslem,  the 
native  Christians  arc  beginning  to  hold  up  their  heads,  and  the 
return  of  self-respect  will,  in  the  course  of  time,  make  them 
respectable. 

Mount  Tabor  stands  a  little  in  advance  of  the  hill-country, 
with  which  it  is  connected  only  hj  a  low  spur  or  shoulder,  its 
base  being  the  Plain  of  Esdraelon.  This  is  probably  the 
reason  why  it  has  been  fixed  upon  as  the  place  of  the  Trans* 
figuration,  as  it  is  not  mentioned  by  name  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. The  words  are:  "  an  high  mountain  apart,"  which  soma 
suppose  to  refer  to  the  position  of  the  mountain,  and  not  to 
the  remoteness  of  Christ  and  the  three  Disciples  from  men. 
riie  sides  of  the  mountain  are  covered  with  clumps  of  oak 


WALLACHIAN     IIERMITd.  lOS 

hawthorn  and  other  trees,  in  many  places  overrun  with  the 
white  honeysuckle,  its  fingers  dropping  Avith  odor  of  nutmeg 
and  cloves.  Tlie  ascent,  by  a  steep  and  winding  path,  occu 
pied  an  hour.  The  summit  is  nearly  level,  and  resembles  somo 
overgrown  American  field,  or  "  oak  opening."  The  grass  is 
more  than  knee-deep  ;  the  trees  grow  high  and  strong,  and 
there  are  tangled  thickets  and  bowers  of  vines  without  end. 
The  eastern  and  highest  end  of  the  mountain  is  covered  with 
the  remains  of  an  old  ibrtress-couvcut,  once  a  place  of  great 
strength,  from  the  thickness  of  its  walls.  In  a  sort  of  cell 
formed  among  the  ruins  we  found  two  monk-hermits.  I 
addressed  tliera  in  all  languages  of  which  I  know  a  salutation, 
without  effect,  but  at  last  made  out  that  they  were  Walla- 
chians.  They  were  men  of  thirty-five,  with  stupid  faces,  dirty 
garments,  beards  run  to  waste,  and  fur  caps.  Their  cell  was  a 
mere  hovel,  without  furniture,  except  a  horrid  caricature  of 
the  Virgin  and  Child,  and  four  books  of  prayers  in  the  Bulgar 
rian  character.  One  of  them  walked  about  knitting  a  stock- 
ing, and  paid  no  attention  to  us  ;  but  the  other,  after  giving 
us  some  deliciously  cold  water,  got  upon  a  pile  of  rubbi.sh,  and 
stood  regarding  us  w^ith  open  mouth  whde  we  took  breakfast. 
So  far  from  this  being  a  cause  of  annoyance,  I  felt  really  glad 
that  our  presence  had  agitated  the  stagnant  waters  of  hia 
mind. 

The  day  was  hazy  and  sultry,  but  the  panoramic  view  from 
Mount  Tabor  was  still  very  fine.  The  great  Plain  of  Esdraeloa 
lay  below  us  like  a  vast  mosaic  of  green  and  brown — jasper 
and  verd-anti(iue.  On  the  west.  Mount  Carmel  lifted  his  head 
above  the  blue  horizon  line  of  the  Mediterranean.  Turning  to 
the  other  side,  a  strip  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee  glimmered  deep 

5* 


106  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEM- 

dowu  among  the  hills,  and  the  Ghor,  or  the  Valley  of  the 
Jordan,  stretched  like  a  broad  gash  through  them.  Beyond 
them,  the  country  of  Djebel  Adjeloun,  the  ancient  Decapolis, 
which  still  holds  the  walls  of  Gadara  and  the  temples  and 
theatres  of  Djerash,  faded  away  into  vapor,  and,  still  further 
to  the  south,  the  desolate  hills  of  Gilead,  the  home  of  Jeph- 
thah.  Mount  Hermou  is  visible  when  the  atmosphere  is  clear 
but  we  were  not  able  to  see  it. 

From  the  top  of  Mount  Tabor  to  Tiberias,  on  the  Sea  of 
GaUlee,  is  a  journey  of  five  hours,  through  a  wild  country, 
with  ))ut  one  single  miserable  village  on  the  road.  At  first 
we  rode  through  lonely  dells,  grown  with  oak  and  brilliant 
with  flowers,  especially  the  large  purple  mallow,  and  then  over 
broad,  treeless  tracts  of  rolling  land,  but  partially  cultivated. 
The  heat  was  very  great  ;  I  had  no  thermometer,  but  should 
judge  the  temperature  to  have  been  at  least  95°  in  the  shade. 
From  the  edge  of  the  upland  tract,  we  looked  down  on  the 
Sea  of  Galilee — a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  sunk  among  the 
mountains,  and  more  than  300  feet  below  the  level  of  the 
Mediterranean,  It  lay  unruffled  in  the  bottom  of  the  basin, 
reflecting  the  peaks  of  the  bare  red  mountains  beyond  it. 
Tiberias  was  at  our  very  feet,  a  few  palm  trees  alone  relieving 
the  nakedness  of  its  dull  walls.  After  taking  a  welcome  drink 
at  the  Fountain  of  Fig-trees,  we  descended  to  the  town,  which 
has  a  desolate  and  forlorn  air.  Its  walls  have  been  partly 
thrown  down  by  earthquakes,  and  never  repaired.  We  found 
our  tents  already  pitched  on  the  bank  above  the  lake,  and 
under  one  of  the  tottering  towers. 

Not  a  breath  of  air  was  stirring  ;  the  red  hills  smouldered 
lo  the  heat,  and  the  waters  of  Giuesareth  at  our  feet  gliiry 


A     BATH     IN     GENESAKETH.  101 

nered  with  au  oily  smoothness,  unbroken  by  a  ripple.  Wfl 
untwisted  our  turbans,  kicked  off  our  baggy  trowscrs,  and 
speedily  releasing  ourselves  from  the  barbarous  restraints  of 
dress,  dipped  into  the  tepid  sea  and  floated  lazily  out  until  we 
could  feel  the  exquisite  coldness  of  the  living  springs  which 
sent  up  their  jets  from  the  bottom.  I  was  lying  on  my  back, 
moving  my  fins  just  sufficiently  to  keep  afloat,  and  gazmg 
dreamily  through  half-closed  eyes  on  the  forlorn  palms  of 
Tiberias,  when  a  shrill  voice  hailed  me  with :  "  0  Howadji, 
get  out  of  our  way  !"  There,  at  the  old  stone  gateway  below 
our  tent,  stood  two  Galilean  damsels,  with  heavy  earthen  jars 
upon  their  heads.  "  Go  away  yourselves,  0  maidens  1"  1 
answered,  "  if  you  want  us  to  come  out  of  the  water."  "  But 
we  must  fill  our  pitchers,"  one  of  them  replied.  "  Then  fill 
them  at  once,  and  be  not  afraid  ;  or  leave  them,  and  we  will 
fill  them  for  you."  Thereupon  they  put  the  pitchers  down,  but 
remained  watching  us  very  complacently  while  we  sank  the 
vessels  to  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  and  let  them  fill  from  the 
colder  and  purer  tide  of  the  springs.  In  bringing  them  back 
through  the  water  to  the  gate,  the  one  I  propelled  before  me 
happened  to  strike  against  a  stone,  and  its  fair  owner,  on 
receiving  it,  immediately  pointed  to  a  crack  in  the  side,  which 
Bhe  declared  I  had  made,  and  went  off  lamenting.  After  wo 
had  resumed  our  garments,  and  were  enjoying  the  pipe  of 
hidoleuce  and  the  coffee  of  contentment,  she  returned  and 
made  such  an  outcry,  that  1  was  fain  to  purchase  peace  by  the 
pn;:e  of  a  new  pitcher.  I  passed  the  first  hours  of  the  night 
hi  looking  out  of  my  tent-door,  as  I  lay,  on  the  stars  sparkling 
in  the  bosom  of  Galilee,  like  the  sheen  of  Assyrian  spears,  and 
the  glare  of  the  great  fires  kindled  on  the  opposite  shore. 


108  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 

The  next  day,  wc  travelled  nortliward  along  the  lakfl, 
passing  through  continuous  thickets  of  oleander,  fragrant  with 
its  heavy  pink  blossoms.  The  thistles  were  more  abundant 
and  beautiful  than  ever.  I  noticed,  in  particular,  one  with  a 
enperb  globular  flower  of  a  bright  blue  color,  which  would 
make  a  choice  ornament  for  our  gardens  at  home.  At  the 
north-western  head  of  the  lake,  the  mountains  fall  back  and 
leave  a  large  tract  of  the  richest  meadow-land,  which  narrows 
away  into  a  deep  dell,  overhung  by  high  mountain  headlands, 
faced  with  naked  cliffs  of  red  rock.  The  features  of  the  land- 
scape are  magnificent.  Up  the  dell,  I  saw  plainly  the  Mount 
of  Beatitude,  beyond  which  lies  the  village  of  Cana  of  Galilee. 
In  coming  up  the  meadow,  we  passed  a  miserable  little  village 
of  thatched  mud  huts,  almost  hidden  by  the  rank  weeds  which 
grew  around  them.  A  withered  old  crone  sat  at  one  of  the 
doors,  sunning  herself.  "  What  is  the  name  of  this  village  ?" 
I  asked.  "  It  is  Mejdel,"  was  her  re})ly.  This  was  the 
ancient  Magdala,  the  home  of  that  beautiful  but  sinful  Mag- 
dalene, whose  repentance  has  made  her  one  of  the  brightest  of 
the  Saints.  The  crystal  waters  of  tlie  lake  here  lave  a  shore 
of  the  cleanest  pebbles.  The  path  goes  winding  through  olean- 
ders, nebbuks,  patches  of  hollyhock,  anise-seed,  fennel,  and 
other  spicy  plants,  while,  on  the  west,  great  fields  of  barley 
stand  ripe  for  the  cutting.  In  some  places,  the  Fellahs,  men 
and  women,  were  at  work,  reaping  and  binding  the  sheaves. 
After  crossing  this  tract,  we  came  to  the  hill,  at  the  foot  of 
which  was  a  ruined  khan,  and  on  the  summit,  other  undistin- 
guishable  ruins,  supposed  by  some  to  be  those  of  Capernaura 
The  site  of  that  exalted  town,  however,  is  still  a  mutter  of 
discussion 


MEETING     WITH     A     TURK.  lOi 

We  journevcd  on  in  a  most  sweltering  atmosphere  over  the 
ascending  liills,  the  valley  of  the  Upper  Jordan  lying  deep  on 
our  right.  In  a  shallow  hollow,  under  one  of  the  highest 
peaks,  there  stands  a  large  deserted  khan,  over  a  well  of  very 
colli,  sweet  water,  called  Uir  Youssuf  by  the  Arabs.  Some- 
where near  it,  according  to  tradition,  is  the  field  where  Joseph 
was  sold  by  his  brethren ;  and  the  well  is,  no  doubt,  looked 
upon  by  many  as  the  identical  ])it  into  which  he  was  thrown. 
A  stately  Turk  of  Damascus,  with  four  servants  behind  him, 
came  riding  up  as  we  were  resting  in  the  gateway  of  the  khan, 
and,  in  answer  to  my  question,  informed  me  that  the  well  was 
so  named  from  Nebbee  Youssuf  (the  Prophet  Joseph),  and  not 
from  Sultan  Joseph  Saladin.  He  took  us  for  his  countrymen, 
accosting  me  first  in  Turkish,  and,  even  after  I  had  talked  with 
him  some  time  in  bad  Arabic,  asked  me  whether  I  had  been 
making  a  pilgrimage  to  the  tombs  of  certain  holy  Moslem  saints, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Jafi"a.  lie  joined  company  with  us,  how- 
ever, and  shared  his  pipe  with  me,  as  we  continued  our  journey. 
Wc  rode  for  two  hours  more  over  hills  bare  of  trees,  but 
covered  thick  with  grass  and  herbs,  and  finally  lost  our  way. 
Frangois  went  ahead,  dashing  through  the  fields  of  barley  and 
lentils,  and  we  reached  the  path  again,  as  the  "Waters  of 
Merora  came  in  sight.  "We  then  descended  into  the  Valley  of 
the  Upper  Jordan,  and  encamped  opposite  the  lake,  at  Ain  eb 
Mellaha  (the  Fountain  of  the  Salt-Works),  the  first  source  of 
the  sacred  river,  A  stream  of  water,  sufficient  to  turn  half-a 
dozen  mills,  gushes  and  gurgles  np  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 
There  are  the  remains  of  an  ancient  dam,  by  which  a  large 
pool  was  formed  for  the  irrigation  of  the  valley.  It  still  sup 
plies  a  little  Arab  mill  below  the  fountain.     This  is  a  frontiei 


110  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

post,  between  the  jurisdictions  of  the  Pasbas  of  Jerusalem 
and  Damascus,  and  the  mukkairee  of  the  Greek  Caloyer,  whc 
left  us  at  Tiberias,  was  obliged  to  pay  a  duty  of  seven  and  a 
half  piastres  on  fifteen  mats,  which  he  had  bought  at  Jerusa/- 
lem  for  one  and  a  half  piastres  each.  The  poor  man  will 
perhaps  make  a  dozen  piastres  (about  half  a  dollar)  on  these 
mats  at  Damascus,  after  carrying  them  on  his  mule  for  more 
than  two  hundred  miles. 

We  pitched  our  tents  on  the  grassy  meadow  below  the 
mill — a  charming  spot,  with  Tell  el-Khanzir  (the  hill  of  wild 
boars)  just  in  front,  over  the  Waters  of  Merom,  and  the  snow- 
streaked  summit  of  Djebel  esh-Shekh — the  great  Mount  Her- 
mon — towering  high  above  the  valley.  This  is  the  loftiest 
peak  of  the  Anti-Lebanon,  and  is  10,000  feet  above  the  sea. 
The  next  morning,  we  rode  for  three  hours  before  reaching  the 
second  spring  of  the  Jordan,  at  a  place  which  Francois  called 
Tell  el-Kadi,  but  which  did  not  at  all  .answer  with  the  descrip- 
tion given  me  by  Dr.  Robinson,  at  Jerusalem.  The  upper 
part  of  the  broad  valley,  whence  the  Jordan  draws  his  waters, 
is  flat,  moist,  and  but  little  cultivated.  There  are  immense 
herds  of  sheep,  goats,  and  buffaloes  wandering  over  it.  The 
people  are  a  dark  Arab  tribe,  and  live  in  tents  and  miserable 
clay  huts.  Where  the  valley  begins  to  slope  upward  towards 
the  hills,  they  plant  wheat,  barley,  and  lentils.  The  soil  is  the 
fattest  brown  loam,  a  ad  the  harvests  are  wonderfully  rich.  I 
Baw  many  tracts  of  wheat,  from  half  a  mile  to  a  mile  in  extent, 
which  would  average  forty  bushels  to  the  acre.  Yet  tha 
ground  is  never  manured,  and  the  Arab  plough  scratches  op 
bat  a  few  inches  of  the  surface.  What  a  paradise  might  be 
made  of  this  country,  were  it  in  better  hands  I 


THE     STREAMS     OP     LEBANON.  Hi 

The  second  spring  is  not  quite  so  large  as  Aiu  cl-Mellaha 
bat,  like  it,  pours  out  a  stiong  stream  from  a  single  source 
The  pool  was  filled  with  women,  washing  the  heavy  fleeces  o; 
their  sheep,  and  beating  the  dirt  out  of  tlieir  striped  camel's 
hair  ubus  witli  long  poles  We  left  it,  and  entered  on  a  slope 
of  stony  ground,  forming  the  head  of  the  valley.  The  view 
extended  southward,  to  the  mountains  closing  the  northern 
cove  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  It  was  a  grand,  rich  landscape — 
so  rich  that  its  desolation  seems  forced  and  unnatural.  Iligb 
on  the  summit  of  a  mountain  to  the  west,  the  ruins  of  a  large 
Crusader  fortress  looked  down  upon  us.  The  soil,  which 
slowly  climbs  upward  through  a  long  valley  between  Lebanon 
and  Anti-Lebanon,  is  cut  with  deep  ravines.  The  path  is  very 
difficult  to  find  ;  and  while  we  were  riding  forward  at  random, 
looking  in  all  directions  for  our  baggage  mules,  we  started  up 
a  beautiful  gazelle.  At  last,  about  noon,  hot,  hungry,  and 
thirsty,  we  reached  a  swift  stream,  roaring  at  the  bottom  of  a 
deep  ravhie,  through  a  bed  of  gorgeous  foliage.  The  odor  of 
the  wild  grape-blossoms,  which  came  up  to  us,  as  we  rode  along 
the  edge,  was  overpowering  in  its  sweetness.  An  old  bridge 
of  two  arches  crossed  the  stream.  There  was  a  pile  of  rocka 
against  the  central  pier,  and  there  we  sat  and  took  breakfast 
in  the  shade  of  the  maples,  while  the  cold  green  waters  foamed 
at  our  feet.  By  all  the  Naiads  and  Tritons,  what  a  joy  there 
is  in  beholding  a  running  stream  !  The  rivers  of  Lebanon  are 
miracles  to  me,  after  my  knowledge  of  the  Desert.  A  com 
pany  of  Arabs,  seven  in  all,  were  gathered  under  the  bridge  ; 
and,  from  a  flute  which  one  of  them  blew,  I  judged  they  were 
taking  a  pastoral  holiday.  We  kept  our  pistols  beside  us  ;  for 
wo  did  not  like  their  looks.     Before  leaving,  they  told  us  that 


m  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN. 

the  countiy  was  full  of  robbers,  and  advised  us  to  be  or  the 
lookout.  We  rode  more  carefully,  after  this,  and  kept  with 
our  baggage  on  reaching  it,  An  hour  after  leaving  the  bridge, 
we  came  to  a  large  circular,  or  rather  annular  mound,  over- 
grown with  knee-deep  grass  and  clumps  of  oak-trees.  A  largo 
stream,  of  a  bright  blue  color,  gushed  down  the  north  side, 
and  after  half  embracing  the  mound  swept  off  across  the 
meadows  to  the  Waters  of  Merom.  There  could  be  no  doubt 
that  this  was  Tell  el-Kadi,  the  site  of  Dan,  the  most  northern 
town  of  ancient  Israel.  The  mound  on  which  it  was  built  is 
the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano.  The  Ilebrew  word  Dan 
signifies  "judge,"  and  Tell  el-Kadi,  in  Arabic,  is  "The  Hill  of 
the  Judge." 

The  Anti-Lebanon  now  rose  near  us,  its  northern  and 
western  slopes  green  with  trees  and  grass.  The  first  range, 
perhaps  5,000  feet  in  height,  shut  out  the  snowy  head  of  Her 
mon  ;  but  still  the  view  was  sublime  in  its  large  and  harmoni- 
ous outlines.  Our  road  was  through  a  country  resembling 
Arcadia — the  earth  hidden  by  a  dense  bed  of  grass  and 
flowers  ;  thickets  of  blossoming  shrubs  ;  old,  old  oaks,  with 
the  most  gnarled  of  trunks,  the  most  picturesque  of  boughs, 
and  the  glossiest  of  green  leaves  ;  olive-trees  of  amazing  anti- 
quity; and,  threading  and  enlivening  all,  the  clear-cold  flooda 
of  Lebanon.  This  was  the  true  haunt  of  Pan,  whose  altars 
are  now  before  me,  graven  on  the  marble  crags  of  Ilermoo. 
Looking  on  those  altars,  and  on  the  landscape,  lovely  as  a 
Grecian  dream,  I  forget  that  the  lament  has  long  been  sung: 
"  Tau,  Pan  is  dead  1" 

In  another  hour,  we  reached  this  place,  the  ancient  Cassarea 
Philippi,  now  a  poor  village,  embowered  in  magnificent  trees, 


BANIA3.  lis 

and  washed  bj  glorious  waters.  There  are  abandaul  remains 
of  the  old  city  :  fragments  of  immense  walls  ;  broker,  granite 
columns;  traces  of  pavements;  great  blocks  of  hewn  stone; 
marble  pedestals,  and  the  like.  In  the  rock  at  the  foot  of  the 
moui\tain,  there  are  several  elegant  niches,  with  Greek  inscrip- 
tions, besides  a  large  natural  grotto.  Below  them,  the  water 
gushes  up  through  the  stones,  in  a  hundred  streams,  forming 
a  flood  of  considerable  size.  We  have  made  our  camp  in  an 
olive  grove  near  the  end  of  the  village,  beside  an  immense 
terebinth  tree,  which  is  inclosed  in  an  open  court,  paved  with 
stone.  This  is  the  town-hall  of  Banias,  where  the  Shckh  dis- 
penses justice,  and  at  the  same  time,  the  resort  of  all  the  idlers 
of  the  place.  We  went  up  among  them,  soon  after  our  arrival, 
and  were  given  seats  of  honor  near  the  Sliekh,  who  talked  with 
me  a  long  time  about  America.  The  people  exhibit  a  very 
sensible  curiosity,  desiring  to  know  the  extent  of  our  country, 
the  number  of  inhabitants,  the  amount  of  taxation,  the  price 
of  grain,  and  other  solid  information. 

The  Shekh  and  the  men  of  the  place  inform  us  that  the 
Druses  are  infesting  the  road  to  Damascus.  This  tribe  is  in 
rebellion  in  Djebel  Ilauaran,  on  account  of  the  conscription, 
and  some  of  them,  it  appears,  have  taken  refuge  in  the  fast- 
nesses of  Hermon,  where  they  are  beginning  to  plunder  tra- 
vellers. While  I  was  talking  with  the  Shekh,  a  Druse  came 
down  from  the  mountains,  and  sat  for  half  an  hour  among  the 
villagers,  under  the  terebinth,  and  we  have  just  heard  that  ho 
has  gone  back  the  way  he  came.  This  fact  has  given  us  some 
anxiety,  as  he  may  have  been  a  si)y  sent  down  to  gather  news 
and,  if  so,  we  are  almost  certain  to  be  waylaid.  If  we  were 
well  armed,  v^  should  xiot  fear  a  dozen,  but  all  our  weapons 


IH  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

fonsist  of  a  sword  and  four  pistols.  After  consulting  toge 
ther,  we  decided  to  apply  to  the  Shekh  for  two  armed  men,  to 
accompany  us.  I  accordingly  went  to  him  again,  and  exhibited 
the  firmau  of  the  Pasha  of  Jerusalem,  which  he  read,  stating 
that,  evcu  without  it,  he  would  have  fult  it  his  duty  to  grant 
our  request.  This  is  the  graceful  way  in  which  the  Orientals 
submit  to  a  peremptory  order.  He  thinks  that  one  man  will 
be  sufQcieut,  as  we  shall  probably  not  meet  with  any  large 
party. 

The  day  has  been,  and  still  is,  excessively  hot.  The  atmos- 
phere is  sweltering,  and  all  around  us,  over  the  thick  patches  of 
mallow  and  wild  mustard,  the  bees  are  humming  with  a  con- 
tinuous sultry  sound.  The  Shekh,  with  a  number  of  lazy 
villagers,  is  still  seated  under  the  terebinth,  in  a  tent  of  shade, 
impervious  to  the  sun.  I  can  hear  the  rush  of  the  fountains  of 
Banias — the  holy  springs  of  Herraon,  whence  Jordan  is  born 
But  what  is  this  ?  The  odor  of  the  velvety  weed  of  Shiraz 
meets  my  nostrils  ;  a  dark-eyed  son  of  Pan  places  the  narghi- 
leh  at  my  feet ;  and,  bubbling  more  sweetly  than  the  streams 
of  Jordan,  the  incense  most  dear  to  the  god  dims  the  crystal 
censer,  and  floats  from  my  lips  in  rhythmic  ejaculations.  I, 
too.  am  in  Arcadia  I 


O.SSABEA     PHILIPPI  1  1  S 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

CUOSSING     THE     ANTI-LEBANON. 

The  Harmless  Guard— Csesarea  Phlllppl— The  Valley  of  the  Druses— The  Sides  r.  Moant 
UermoD — An  Alarm — Threading  a  Defile — Distant  Tiew  of  Djebel  Hauaran — Anatbe 
Alarm — Camp  at  Katana — We  Ride  Into  Damascus. 

Damascits,  May  12, 1S53. 

We  rose  early,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  a  long  march.  The 
guard  came — a  mild-looking  Arab — without  arras  ;  but  on  our 
refusing  to  take  him  thus,  he  brought  a  Turkish  musket,  terri- 
ble to  behold,  but  quite  guiltless  of  any  murderous  intent. 
We  gave  ourselves  up  to  fate,  with  true  Arab  resignation,  and 
began  ascending  the  Anti-Lebanon.  Up  and  up,  by  stony 
paths,  under  the  oaks,  beside  the  streams,  and  between  the 
wheat-fields,  we  climbed  for  two  hours,  and  at  last  reached  a 
comb  or  dividing  ridge,  whence  we  could  look  into  a  valley  on 
the  other  side,  or  rather  inclosed  between  tlie  main  chain  and 
the  offshoot  named  Djebel  Ileish,  which  stretches  away  towards 
the  south-east.  About  half-way  up  the  ascent,  we  passed  thr 
ruined  acropolis  of  Caesarea  Philippi,  crowning  the  summit  oJ 
a  lower  peak.  The  walls  and  bastions  cover  a  great  extent  of 
ground,  and  were  evidently  used  as  a  stronghold  in  the  Middla 
Ages. 


1  I  6  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN. 

The  valley  into  which  we  descended  lay  directly  under  one 
of  the  peaks  of  Hermon  and  the  rills  that  watered  it  were  fed 
from  his  snow-fields.  It  was  inhabited  by  Druses,  but  no  mcu 
were  to  be  seen,  except  a  few  poor  husbandmen,  ploughing  on 
the  mountain-sides.  The  women,  wearing  those  enormous 
horns  on  their  heads  which  distinguish  them  from  the  Moham- 
medan females,  were  washing  at  a  pool  below.  We  crossed 
the  valley,  and  slowly  ascended  the  height  on  the  oppo- 
Bite  side,  taking  care  to  keep  with  the  baggage-mules.  Up  to 
this  time,  we  met  very  few  persons  ;  and  we  forgot  the  antici- 
pated perils  in  contemplating  the  rugged  scenery  of  the  Anti- 
Lebanon.  The  mountain-sides  were  brilliant  with  flowers,  and 
many  new  and  beautiful  specimens  arrested  our  attention.  The 
asphodel  grew  in  bunches  beside  the  streams,  and  the  large 
scarlet  anemone  outshone  even  the  poppy,  whose  color  here  is 
the  quintessence  of  flame.  Five  hours  after  leaving  Banias, 
we  reached  the  highest  part  of  the  pass — a  dreary  volcanic 
re"-ion,  covered  with  fragments  of  lava.  Just  at  this  place, 
an  old  Arab  met  us,  and,  after  scanning  us  closely,  stopped 
and  accosted  Dervish.  The  latter  immediately  came  running 
ahead,  quite  excited  with  the  news  that  the  old  man  had  seen 
a  company  of  about  fifty  Druses  descend  from  the  sides  of 
Mount  Hermon,  towards  the  road  we  were  to  travel.  We 
immediately  ordered  the  baggage  to  halt,  and  Mr.  Harrison, 
Francois,  and  myself  rode  on  to  reconnoitre.  Our  guard,  the 
valiant  man  of  Banias,  whose  teeth  already  chattered  with 
fear,  prudently  kept  with  the  baggage.  We  crossed  the  ridge 
and  watched  the  stony  mountain-sides  for  some  time  ;  but  no 
Bpear  or  glittering  gun-barrel  could  we  see.  The  caravan  was 
then  set  in  motion  ;  and  we  had  not  proceeded  far  before  wfl 


VIEW     FROM    THE     AXTI-LEBANOX.  Ill 

met  a  second  company  of  Arabs,  who  informed  us  ihat  the 
road  was  free. 

Leaving  tlie  heig'its,  we  descended  cautiously  into  a  ravine 
with  walls  of  rough  volcanic  rock  on  each  side.  It  was  a  pass 
where  three  men  might  have  stood  their  ground  against  a 
hundred ;  and  we  did  not  feel  thoroughly  convinced  of  our 
safety  till  we  had  threaded  its  many  windings  and  emerged 
upon  a  narrow  valley.  A  village  called  Beit  Jcnn  nestled 
under  the  rocks ;  and  below  it,  a  grove  of  poplar-trees  shaded 
the  banks  of  a  rapid  stream.  We  had  now  fairly  crossed  the 
Anti-Lebanon.  The  dazzling  snows  of  Mount  llermon  over- 
hung us  on  the  west ;  and,  from  the  opening  of  the  valley,  we 
looked  across  a  wild,  waste  country,  to  the  distant  range  of 
Djebel  Hauaran,  the  seat  of  the  present  rebellion,  and  one  of 
the  most  interesting  regions  of  Syria.  I  regretted  more  than 
ever  not  being  able  to  reach  it.  The  ruins  of  Bozrah,  Ezra, 
and  other  ancient  cities,  would  well  repay  the  arduous  charac- 
ter of  the  journey,  while  the  traveller  might  succeed  in  getting 
some  insight  into  the  life  and  habits  of  that  singular  people, 
the  Druses.  But  now,  and  perhaps  for  some  time  to  come, 
there  is  no  chance  of  entering  the  Hauaran. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  we  reached  a  large 
village,  which  is  usually  the  end  of  the  first  day's  journey  from 
Banias.  Our  men  wanted  to  stop  here,  but  we  considered 
that  to  halt  then  would  be  to  increase  the  risk,  and  decided  to 
push  on  to  Katana,  four  hours'  journey  from  Damascus.  They 
yielded  with  a  Ijad  grace ;  and  we  jogged  on  over  the  stony 
road,  crossing  the  long  hills  which  form  the  eastern  base  of  the 
Anti-Lebanon.  Before  long,  another  Arab  met  us  with  the 
news  that  there  was  an  encampment  of  Druses  on  the  plain 


118  THE  LAN13  OF  THE  SARACEN 

between  ns  and  Katana.  At  this,  our  guard,  who  had  reco 
vered  sufficient  spirit  to  ride  a  few  paces  in  advance,  fell  back, 
and  the  impassive  Dervish  became  greatly  agitated.  Whora 
there  is  an  uncertain  danger,  it  is  always  better  to  go  ahead 
than  to  turn  back  ;  and  we  did  so.  But  the  guard  reined  up 
on  the  top  of  the  first  ridge,  trembling  as  he  pointed  to  a  dis- 
tant hill,  and  cried  out :  "Aho,  ahb  henak!"  (There  they  are  1) 
There  were,  in  fact,  the  shadows  of  some  rocks,  which  bore  a 
faint  resemblance  to  tents.  Before  sunset,  we  reached  the  last 
declivity  of  the  mountains,  and  saw  far  in  the  dusky  plain,  the 
long  green  belt  of  the  gardens  of  Damascus,  and  here  and 
there  the  indistinct  glimmer  of  a  minaret.  Katana,  our  rest- 
ing-place for  the  night,  lay  below  us,  buried  in  orchards  of  olive 
and  orange.  We  pitched  our  tents  on  the  banks  of  a  beautiful 
stream,  enjoyed  the  pipe  of  tranquillity,  after  our  long  march, 
and  soon  forgot  the  Druses,  in  a  slumber  that  lasted  unbroken 
till  dawn. 

In  the  morning  we  sent  back  the  man  of  Banias,  left  the 
baggage  to  take  care  of  itself,  and  rode  on  to  Damascus,  a3 
fast  as  our  tired  horses  could  carry  us.  The  plain,  at  first 
barren  and  stony,  became  enlivened  with  vineyards  and  fielda 
cf  wheat,  as  we  advanced.  Arabs  were  everywhere  at  work, 
ploughing  and  directing  the  water-courses.  The  belt  of  living 
green,  the  bower  in  which  the  great  city,  the  Queen  of  the 
Orient,  hides  her  beauty,  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  stretching 
out  a  crescent  of  foliage  for  miles  on  either  hand,  that  gra- 
dually  narrowed  and  received  us  into  its  cool  and  fragrant 
heart.  We  sank  into  a  sea  of  olive,  pomegranate,  orange, 
plum,  apricot,  walnut,  and  plane  trees,  and  were  lost.  The 
sun    sparkled   in   the  rolling   surface  above  •    but  we   swam 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  DKU3ES.  119 

through  the  green  depths,  below  his  reach,  and  thus,  drifted 
on  through  miles  of  shade,  entered  the  city. 

Since  our  arrival,  I  find  that  two  other  parties  of  travellers, 
one  of  which  crossed  the  Anti-Lebanon  on  the  northern  side  of 
Mount  Hermon,  were  obliged  to  take  guards,  and  saw  severa] 
Druse  spies  posted  on  the  heights,  as  they  passed.  A  Russian 
gentleman  travelling  from  here  to  Tiberias,  was  stopped  three 
times  on  the  road,  and  only  escaped  being  plundered  from  the 
fact  of  his  having  a  Druse  dragoman.  The  disturbances  are 
more  serious  than  I  had  anticipated.  Four  regiments  left  here 
yesterday,  sent  to  the  aid  of  a  company  of  cavalry,  which  is 
Burroundcd  by  the  rebels  in  a  valley  of  Dejebel  Hauaraii,  and 
unable  to  get  oat. 


L20  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

PICTURES      OF      DAMASCUS. 

Damascus  from  the  Anti-Lebanon — Entering  the  City — A  Diorama  of  Bazaars—  Al 
Oriental  Hotel — Our  Chamber — The  Bazaars — Pipes  and  Coffee — The  Rivers  0/ 
Damascus — Palaces  of  the  Jews — Jewish  Ladies — A  Christian  Gentleman — The  Sacred 
Localities — Damascus  Blades — The  Sword  of  Haroun  Al-Raschid — An  Arrival  froa 
Palmyra. 

"  Are  not  Abana  and  Pharpar,  riyers  of  Damascus,  better  than  ail  the  waters  r.f 
IfT»el  f"— 8  K1HO8,  T.  12. 

Damasccs,  Wednesday,  3tay  19, 1S52. 

DAiiAscus  is  considered  by  many  travellers  as  the  best  remain- 
inj^  type  of  an  Oriental  city.  Constantinople  is  semi-European| 
Cairo  is  fast  becoming  so ;  but  Damascus,  away  from  the 
highways  of  commerce,  seated  alone  between  the  Lebanon  and 
the  Syrian  Desert,  still  retains,  in  its  outward  aspect  and  in 
the  character  of  its  inhabitants,  all  the  pride  and  fancy  and 
fanaticism  of  the  times  of  the  Caliphs  With  this  judgment, 
in  general  terms,  I  agree  ;  but  not  to  its  ascendancy,  in  every 
respect,  over  Cairo,  True,  when  you  behold  Damascus  from 
the  Salahiyeh,  the  last  slope  of  the  Anti-Lebanon,  it  is  the 
realization  of  all  that  you  have  dreamed  of  Oriental  splendor  ; 
the  world  has  no  picture  more  dazzling.  It  is  Beauty  carried 
to  the  Sublime,  as  I  have  felt  when  overlooking  some  bound* 
£ss  forest  of  palms  within  the  tropics.     From  the  hill,  whos" 


DAMASCUS     FROM    THE    ANTI- LEBANON.  121 

ridges  heave  bebind  you  until  in  the  south  ,hey  rise  to  the 
Buowy  head  of  Mount  Ilermon,  the  great  Syrian  plain 
stretches  away  to  the  Euplirates,  broken  at  distances  ot  ten 
and  fifteen  miles,  by  two  detached  mountain  chains  In  a  ter- 
rible gorge  at  your  side,  the  river  Barrada,  the  ancient 
Pharpar,  forces  its  way  to  the  plain,  and  its  waters,  divided 
into  twelve  different  channels,  make  all  between  you  and  those 
blue  island-hills  of  the  desert,  one  great  garden,  the  boundaries 
of  which  your  vision  can  barely  distinguish.  Its  longest 
diameter  cannot  be  less  than  twenty  miles.  You  look  down  on 
a  world  of  foliage,  and  fruit,  and  blossoms,  whose  hue,  by 
contrast  with  the  barren  mountains  and  the  yellow  rim  of  the 
desert  which  incloses  it,  seems  brighter  than  all  other  gardens 
in  the  world.  Through  its  centre,  following  the  course  of  the 
river,  lies  Damascus  ;  a  line  of  white  walls,  topped  with  domes 
and  towers  and  tall  minarets,  winding  away  for  miles  through 
the  green  sea.  Nothing  less  than  a  city  of  palaces,  whose 
walls  are  marble  and  whose  doors  are  ivory  and  pearl,  could 
keep  up  the  enchantment  of  that  distant  view. 

We  rode  for  an  hour  through  the  gardens  before  entering 
the  gate.  The  fruit-trees,  of  whatever  variety — walnut,  olive, 
apricot,  or  fig — were  the  noblest  of  their  kind.  Roses  and 
pomegranates  in  bloom  starred  the  dark  foliage,  and  the 
scented  jasmine  overhung  the  walls.  But  as  we  approached 
the  city,  the  view  was  obscured  by  high  mud  walls  on  either 
side  of  the  road,  and  we  only  caught  glimpses  now  and  then 
of  the  fragrant  wilderness.  The  first  street  we  entered  was 
low  and  mean,  the  houses  of  clay.  Following  this,  we  camo 
to  an  uncovered  bazaar,  with  rude  shops  on  either  side,  pro- 
tacted  by  mats  stretched  in  front  and  supported  by  poles. 

6 


122  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Here  all  sorts  of  common  stuffs  and  ntensils  were  sold,  an^ 
the  street  was  filled  with  crowds  of  Fellahs  and  Desert  Araba. 
Two  large  sycamores  shaded  it,  and  the  Seraglio  of  the  Pasha 
of  Damascus,  a  plain  two-story  building,  faced  the  entrance  of 
the  main  bazaar,  which  branched  off  into  the  city.  We  turned 
into  this,  and  after  passing  through  several  small  bazaars 
Btocked  with  dried  fruits,  pipes  and  pipe-bowls,  groceries,  and 
all  the  primitive  wares  of  the  East,  reached  a  large  passage, 
covered  with  a  steep  wooden  roof,  and  entirely  occupied  by 
venders  of  silk  stuffs.  Out  of  this  we  passed  through  another, 
devoted  to  saddles  and  bridles;  then  another,  full  of  spices, 
and  at  last  reached  the  grand  bazaar,  where  all  the  richest 
stuffs  of  Europe  and  the  East  were  displayed  in  the  shops. 
We  rode  slowly  along  through  the  cool  twilight,  crossed  hero 
and  there  by  long  pencils  of  white  light,  falling  through 
apertures  in  the  roof,  and  illuminating  the  gay  turbans  and  silk 
caftans  of  the  lazy  merchants.  But  out  of  this  bazaar,  at 
intervals,  opened  the  grand  gate  of  a  khan,  giving  us  a  view  of 
its  marble  court,  its  fountains,  and  the  dark  arches  of  its  store- 
rooms ;  or  the  door  of  a  mosque,  with  its  mosaic  floor  and  pil- 
lared corridor.  The  interminable  lines  of  bazaars,  with  their 
atmospheres  of  spice  and  fruit  and  fragrant  tobacco ,  the 
hushed  tread  of  the  slippered  crowds  ;  the  plash  of  falling  foun- 
tains and  the  bubbling  of  innumerable  narghilehs  ;  the  pictur 
esque  merchants  and  their  customers,  no  longer  in  the  big 
trowsers  of  Egypt,  but  the  long  caftans  and  abas  of  Syria  ; 
the  absence  of  Frank  faces  and  dresses — in  all  these  there  wan 
the  true  spirit  of  the  Orient,  and  so  far,  we  were  charmed 
with  Damascus. 

At  the  hotel  in  the  Soog  el-Harab,  or  Frank  quarter,  the 


AN   or:ental   hotel.  123 

illusion  was  not  dissipated.  It  had  once  been  the  bouse  cf 
some  rich  mercbant.  The  court  into  wliicli  we  were  ushered 
is  paved  with  marble,  with  a  great  stone  basin,  surrounded  with 
rases  of  (lowering  plants,  in  tlie  centre.  Two  large  lemon 
trees  shade  the  entrance,  and  a  vine,  climbing  to  the  top  of 
the  bouse,  makes  a  leafy  arbor  over  the  flat  roof.  The  walls 
of  the  house  are  painted  in  horizontal  bars  of  blue,  white, 
orange  and  white — a  gay  grotesqueness  of  style  which  does 
not  offend  the  eye  under  an  eastern  sun.  On  the  southern 
side  of  the  court  is  tlie  liwaii,  au  arrangement  for  which  the 
houses  of  Damascus  are  noted.  It  is  a  vaulted  apartment, 
twenty  feet  high,  entirely  open  towards  the  court,  except  a  fine 
pointed  arch  at  tlie  top,  decorated  with  encaustic  ornameuts  of 
the  most  brilliant  colors.  In  front,  a  tesselated  pavement  of 
marble  leads  to  the  doors  of  the  chambers  ou  each  side. 
Beyond  this  is  a  raised  floor  covered  with  matting,  and  along 
the  farther  end  a  divan,  whose  piled  cushions  are  the  most 
tempting  trap  ever  set  to  catch  a  lazy  man.  Although  not 
naturally  indolent,  I  find  it  impossible  to  resist  the  fascination 
of  this  lounge.  Leaning  back,  cross-legged,  against  the 
cushions,  with  the  inseparable  pipe  in  one's  hand,  the  view  of 
the  court,  the  water-basin,  the  flowers  and  lemon  trees,  the 
servants  and  dragomen  going  back  and  forth,  or  smoking  their 
narghilehs  in  the  shade — all  framed  in  the  beautiful  arched 
eurance,  is  so  perfectly  Oriental,  so  true  a  tableau  from  the 
times  of  good  old  Uarouu  Al-llaschid,  that  one  is  surprised  to 
find  how  many  hours  have  slipped  away  while  be  has  been 
fii/cutly  enjoying  it. 

Opposite  the  liwan  is  a  large  room  paved  with  marble,  with 
a  handsome  fountain  in  the  centre.     It  is  the  finest  in  ihe 


124  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN'. 

hotel,  and  now  occupied  by  Lord  Dalkeith  and  his  frienda 
Our  own  room  is  on  the  upper  floor,  and  is  so  rich  in  decora' 
tions  that  I  have  not  yet  finished  the  study  of  them.  Along 
the  side,  looking  down  on  the  court,  we  have  a  mosaic  floor  of 
while,  red,  black  and  yellow  marble.  Above  this  is  rait^ed  a 
second  floor,  carpeted  and  furnished  in  European  style.  Tho 
walls,  for  a  height  of  ten  feet,  are  covered  with  wooden  panel 
ling,  painted  with  arabesque  devices  in  the  gayest  colors,  and 
along  the  top  there  is  a  series  of  Arabic  inscriptions  in  gold. 
There  are  a  number  of  niches  or  open  closets  in  the  walls, 
whose  arched  tops  are  adorned  with  pendent  wooden  orna 
ments,  resembling  stalactites,  and  at  the  corners  of  the  room 
the  heavy  gilded  and  painted  cornice  drops  into  similar  gro- 
tesque incrustations.  A  space  of  bare  white  wall  intervenes 
between  this  cornice  and  the  ceiling,  which  is  formed  of  slim 
poplar  logs,  laid  side  by  side,  and  so  covered  with  paint  and 
with  scales  and  stripes  and  network  devices  in  gold  and  silver, 
that  one  would  take  them  to  be  clothed  with  the  skins  of  the 
magic  serpents  that  guard  the  Valley  of  Diamonds.  My  most 
satisfactory  remembrance  of  Damascus  will  be  this  room. 

My  walks  through  the  city  have  been  almost  wholly  confined 
to  the  bazaars,  which  are  of  immense  extent.  One  can  walk 
for  many  miles,  without  going  beyond  the  cover  of  their  peaked 
wooden  roofs,  and  in  all  this  round  will  find  no  two  precisely 
alik».  One  is  devoted  entirely  to  soap  ;  another  to  tobacco 
through  which  you  cough  and  sneeze  your  way  to  the  bazaa, 
of  spices,  and  delightedly  inhale  its  perfumed  air.  Then  ther€ 
IB  the  bazaar  of  sweetmeats  ;  of  vegetables  ;  of  red  slippers  j 
of  shawls  ;  of  caftans  ;  of  bakers  and  ovens  ;  of  wooden  ware  j 
of  jewelry — a  great  stone  building,  covered  with  vaulted  pas- 


BAZAARS     AND     CAF^S.  126 

Bages  ;  of  Aleppo  silks  ;  of  Baghdad  carpets  ;  of  Indian  stuffs  ' 
of  coffee  ;  and  so  on,  through  a  seemingly  endless  variety.  An 
I  have  already  remarked,  along  the  line  of  the  bazaars  are 
many  khans,  the  resort  of  merchants  from  all  parts  of  Turkey 
and  Persia,  and  even  India.  They  are  large,  stately  buildings, 
and  some  of  them  have  superb  gateways  of  sculptured  marble. 
The  interior  courts  are  paved  with  stone,  with  fountains  in  the 
centre,  and  many  of  them  are  covered  with  domes  resting  on 
massive  pillars.  The  largest  has  a  roof  of  nine  domes,  sup- 
ported by  four  grand  pillars,  which  inclose  a  fountain.  The 
mosques,  into  which  no  Christian  is  allowed  to  enter,  are  in 
general  inferior  to  those  of  Cairo,  but  their  outer  courts  are 
always  paved  with  marble,  adorned  with  fountains,  and  sur- 
rounded by  light  and  elegant  corridors.  The  grand  mosque  ia 
an  imposing  edifice,  and  is  said  to  occupy  the  site  of  a  former 
Christian  church. 

Another  pleasant  feature  of  the  city  is  its  coffee  shops, 
which  abound  in  the  bazaars  and  on  the  outskirts  of  the  gar- 
dens, beside  the  running  streams.  Those  in  the  bazaars  are 
spacious  rooms  with  vaulted  ceilings,  divans  running  around 
the  four  walls,  and  fountains  in  the  centre.  During  the  after- 
noon they  are  nearly  always  filled  with  Turks,  Armenians  and 
Persians,  smoking  the  narghileh,  or  water-pipe,  which  is  the 
universal  custom  in  Damascus.  The  Persian  tobacco,  brought 
here  by  the  caravans  from  Baghdad,  is  renowned  for  this  kind 
of  smoking.  The  most  popular  coffee-shop  is  near  the  citadel, 
on  Ihe  banks  and  over  the  surface  of  the  Pharpar,  It  is  a 
rough  wooden  building,  with  a  roof  of  straw  mats,  but  the 
sight  and  sound  of  the  rushing  waters,  as  they  shoot  away  with 
arrowy  swiftness  under  your  feet,  the  shade  of  the  trees  that 


126  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN'. 

line  the  banks,  and  the  cool  breeze  that  always  visits  tha 
spot,  beguile  you  into  a  second  pipe  ere  you  are  aware.  "  El 
via,  wa  el  khodra,  wa  d  widj  el  hassan — water,  verdure  and  a 
beautiful  face,"  says  an  old  Arab  proverb,  "  are  three  thinga 
which  delight  the  heart,"  aad  the  Syrians  avow  that  all  three 
are  to  be  fouud  in  Damascus.  Not  only  ou  the  three  Sundays 
of  each  week,  but  every  day,  in  the  gardeus  about  the  city^ 
you  may  see  whole  families  (and  if  Jews  or  Christians,  many 
groups  of  famiUes)  spending  the  day  iu  the  shade,  beside  the 
beautiful  waters.  There  are  several  gardens  fitted  up  pur- 
posely for  these  pic-nics,  with  kiosks,  fountains  and  pleasant 
seats  under  the  trees.  You  bring  your  pipes,  your  provisions 
and  the  like  with  you,  but  servants  are  in  attendance  to  furnish 
fire  and  water  and  coffee,  for  which,  on  leaving,  you  give  them 
a  small  gratuity.  Of  all  the  Damascenes  I  have  yet  seen, 
there  is  not  one  but  declares  his  city  to  be  the  Garden  of  the 
World,  tlie  Pearl  of  the  Orient,  and  thanks  God  and  the 
Prophet  for  having  permitted  him  to  be  born  and  to  live  in  it. 
But,  except  the  bazaars,  the  khans  and  the  baths,  of  which 
there  are  several  most  luxurious  establishments,  the  city  itself 
is  neither  so  rich  nor  so  purely  Saracenic  in  its  architecture  as 
Cairo.  The  streets  are  narrow  and  dirty,  and  the  houses, 
which  are  never  more  than  two  low  stories  in  height,  are  built 
of  sun-dried  bricks,  coated  with  plaster.  I  miss  the  solid  piles 
of  stone,  the  elegant  doorways,  and,  alcove  all,  the  exquisite 
hanging  balconies  of  carved  wood,  which  meet  one  in  the 
old  streets  of  Cairo.  Damascus  is  the  representative  of  all 
that  is  gay,  brilliant,  and  picturesque,  in  Oriental  life;  but  foi 
ftately  magnificence,  Cairo,  and,  1  suspect,  Baghdad,  is  iti 
Euperior 


PALACES     OF     THK     JEWS.  121 

We  visited  the  other  day  the  houses  of  some  of  the  richest 
Jews  and  Christians.  Old  Abou-Ibrahim,  the  Jewish  servant 
of  the  hotel,  accompanied  and  introduced  us.  It  is  customary 
for  travellers  to  make  these  visits,  and  the  families,  fur  from 
being  annoyed,  are  flattered  by  it.  The  exteriors  of  the 
bouses  are  mean  ;  but  after  threading  a  narrow  passage,  we 
emerged  into  a  court,  rivalling  in  profusion  of  ornament  and 
rich  contrast  of  colors  one's  early  idea  of  the  Palace  of  Alad- 
din. The  fioors  and  fountains  are  all  of  marble  mosaic  ;  tlie 
arches  of  the  liwan  glitter  with  gold,  and  the  walls  bewilder 
the  eye  with  the  iutricacy  of  their  adornments.  In  the  first 
house,  we  were  received  by  the  family  in  a  room  of  precious 
marbles,  with  niches  in  the  walls,  reserabhng  grottoes  of  silver 
stalactites.  The  cushions  of  the  divan  were  of  the  richest  silk, 
and  a  chandelier  of  Boliemian  crystal  hung  from  the  ceiling. 
Silver  narghilehs  were  brouglit  to  us,  and  coffee  was  served  in 
heavy  silver  zerfs.  The  lady  of  the  house  was  a  rather  corpu- 
lent lady  of  about  thirtj-five,  and  wore  a  semi-European  robe 
of  embroidered  silk  and  lace,  with  full  trowsers  gatliered  at 
the  ankles,  and  yellow  slippers.  Her  black  hair  was  braided, 
and  fastened  at  the  end  with  golden  ornaments,  and  the  light 
scarf  twisted  around  her  head  blazed  with  diamonds.  Tiie  lida 
of  her  large  eyes  were  stained  with  kohl,  and  her  eyebrows 
were  plucked  out  and  shaved  away  so  as  to  leave  only  a  thin, 
arched  line,  as  if  drawn  with  a  pencil,  above  each  eye.  Her 
daughter,  a  girl  of  iiftcen,  who  bore  the  genuine  Hebrew  name 
of  Rachel,  had  even  bigger  and  blacker  eyes  tlian  her  mother  ; 
but  her  f:)rehead  was  low,  her  nioutli  large,  and  the  expression 
of  her  face  exceedingly  stupid.  The  father  of  the  family  was  a 
middle-aged  man,  with  a  well-bred  air,  and  talked  with  au 


•iSfe.  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SAKACEN. 

Oriontal  politeness  which  was  very  refreshing.  An  JDnglioh 
lady,  who  was  of  our  party,  said  to  him,  through  me,  that  H 
she  possessed  such  a  house  she  should  be  willing  to  rejiaic 
in  Damascus.  "  Why  does  she  leave,  then  ?"  he  immediately 
answered  :  "  this  is  her  house,  and  everything  that  is  in 
it."  S[)caking  of  visiting  Jerusalem,  he  asked  me  whether  it 
was  not  a  more  beautiful  city  than  Damascus.  "  It  is  not 
more  beautiful,"  I  said,  "  but  it  is  more  holy,"  an  expression 
which  the  whole  company  received  with  great  satisfaction. 

The  second  house  we  visited  was  even  larger  and  richer  than 
the  first,  but  had  an  air  of  neglect  and  decay.  The  slabs  of 
rich  marble  were  loose  and  broken,  about  the  edges  of  tha 
fountains  ;  the  rich  painting  of  the  wood-work  was  beginning 
to  fade  ;  and  the  balustrades  leading  to  the  upper  chambera 
were  broken  off  in  places.  We  were  ushered  into  a  room,  the 
walls  and  ceilings  of  which  were  composed  entirely  of  gilded 
arabesque  frame-work,  set  with  small  mirrors.  When  new,  it 
must  have  had  a  gorgeons  effect  ;  but  the  gold  is  now  tar 
nished,  and  the  glasses  dim.  The  mistress  of  the  house  was 
seated  on  the  cushions,  dividing  her  time  between  her  pipe  and 
her  needle-work.  She  merely  made  a  slight  inclination  of  her 
head  as  we  entered,  and  went  on  with  her  occupation.  Pre- 
sently her  two  daughters  and  an  Abyssinian  slave  appeared, 
and  took  their  places  on  the  cushions  at  her  feet,  the  wholj 
forming  a  charming  group,  which  I  regretted  some  of  my 
artist  friends  at  home  could  not  see.  The  mistress  was  so 
exceedingly  dignified,  that  she  bestowed  but  few  words  on  us. 
She  seemed  to  resent  our  admiration  of  thvi  slave,  who  was  f 
mest  graceful  creature  ;  yet  her  jealousy,  it  afterwards  appear- 
ed, had  reference  to  her  own  husband,  for  we  had  scarcely  left 


A     CHRISTIAN     GENTLEMAN.  129 

when  a  servant  followed  to  inform  the  English  lady  that  if  she 
was  willing  to  buy  the  Abyssinian,  the  mistress  would  sell  hei 
at  once  for  two  thousand  piastres. 

The  last  visit  we  paid  was  to  the  dwelling  of  a  Maronito, 
the  richest  Christian  in  Damascus.  The  house  resembled 
those  we  had  already  seen,  except  that,  having  been  recently 
built,  it  was  in  better  condition,  and  exhibited  better  taste 
in  the  ornaments.  No  one  but  the  lady  was  allowed  to  enter 
the  female  apartments,  the  rest  of  us  being  entertained  by  the 
proprietor,  a  man  of  fifty,  and  without  exception  the  hand- 
somest and  most  dignified  person  of  that  age  I  have  ever  seen. 
He  was  a  king  without  a  throne,  and  fascinated  me  completely 
by  the  noble  elegance  of  his  manner.  In  any  country  but  the 
Orient,  I  should  have  pronounced  him  incapable  of  an  unwor- 
thy thought :  here,  he  may  be  exactly  the  reverse. 

Although  Damascus  is  considered  the  oldest  city  in  the 
world,  the  date  of  its  foundation  going  beyond  tradition,  there 
are  very  few  relics  of  antiquity  in  or  near  it.  In  the  bazaar 
are  three  large  pillars,  supporting  half  the  pediment,  which  are 
eaid  to  have  belonged  to  the  Christian  Church  of  St.  John, 
but,  if  so,  that  church  must  have  been  originally  a  Roman 
temple.  Part  of  the  Roman  walls  and  one  of  tlie  city  gates 
remain;  and  we  saw  the  spot  where,  according  to  tradition, 
Saul  was  let  down  from  the  wall  in  a  basket.  There  are  two 
localities  pointed  out  as  the  scene  of  his  conversion,  which, 
from  his  own  account,  occurred  near  the  city.  I  visited  a 
subterranean  chapel  claimed  by  the  Latin  monks  to  be  the 
cellar  of  the  houbC  of  Ananias,  in  which  the  Apostle  was 
concealed.  The  cellar  is,  undoubtedly,  of  great  antiquity;  but 
OS  the  whole  quarter  was  for  many  centuries  inhabited  wholly 

6* 


130  THE     LANL»S     OF     THE     SARACEN'. 

by  Turks,  it  would  be  curious  to  know  how  the  monks  ascer 
tained  which  was  the  house  of  Ananias.  As  for  the  "  street 
called  Straight,"  it  would  be  difficult  at  present  to  find  any  in 
Damascus  corresponding  to  that  epithet. 

The  famous  Damascus  blades,  so  renowned  in  the  time 
of  the  Crusaders,  are  made  here  no  longer.  The  art  has  been 
lost  for  three  or  four  centuries.  Yet  genuine  old  swords,  of 
the  true  steel,  are  occasionally  to  be  found.  They  are  readily 
distinguished  from  modern  imitations  by  their  clear  and  silvery 
ring  when  struck,  and  by  the  finely  watered  appearance  of  the 
blade,  produced  by  its  having  been  first  made  of  woven  wire 
and  then  worked  over  and  over  again  until  it  attained  tho 
requisite  temper.  A  droll  Turk,  who  is  the  shtkh  ed-dellul,  or 
Chief  of  the  Auctioneers,  and  is  nicknamed  Abou-Anteeka  (tho 
Father  of  the  Antiquesj,  has  a  large  collection  of  sabres,  dag- 
gers, pieces  of  mail,  shields,  pipes,  rings,  seals,  and  other  ancient 
articles.  lie  demands  enormous  prices,  but  generally  takea 
about  one-third  of  what  he  first  asks.  I  have  spent  several 
hours  in  his  curiosity  shop,  bargaining  for  turquoise  rings,  car- 
buncles, Persian  amulets,  and  Circassian  daggers.  While 
looking  over  some  old  swords  the  other  day,  I  noticed  one  of 
exquisite  temper,  but  with  a  shorter  blade  than  usual.  The 
point  had  apparently  been  snapped  off  in  fight,  but  owing  to 
the  excellence  of  the  sword,  or  the  owner's  affection  for  it,  the 
eteel  had  been  carefully  shaped  into  a  new  point.  Abou- 
Anteeka  asked  five  hundred  piastres,  and  I,  who  had  taken  a 
particular  fancy  to  possess  it,  offered  him  two  hundred  in  an 
indifferent  way,  and  then  laid  it  aside  to  examine  othe< 
articles.  After  his  refusal  to  accept  my  offer,  I  said  nothing 
more,  and  was  leaving  the  shop,  when  the  old  fellow  called  me 


THE     SWORD     OF     IIAROUN.  I3'l 

back,  sajiiig  :  "  You  liave  forgotten  your  sword," — which 
I  thereupon  took  at  my  own  price.  I  have  shown  it  to  Mr 
Wood,  the  British  Consul,  who  pronounced  it  an  extremely 
One  specimen  of  Damascus  steel  ;  and,  on  reading  the  inscrip* 
tion  enamelled  upon  the  blade,  ascertains  that  it  was  made  in 
the  year  of  the  Ilegira,  181,  which  corresponds  to  a.d.  798. 
This  was  during  the  Caliphate  of  llaroun  Al-llaschid,  and 
who  knows  but  the  sword  may  have  once  Hashed  in  the 
presence  of  that  great  and  glorious  sovereign — nay,  been 
drawn  by  his  own  hand  1  Who  knows  but  that  the  Milan 
armor  of  the  Crusaders  may  have  shivered  its  point,  on 
the  field  of  Askalon  1  I  kiss  the  veined  azure  of  thy  blade, 
O  Sword  of  Ilaronn  1  I  hang  the  crimson  cords  of  thy  scab- 
bard upon  my  shoulder,  and  thou  shalt  henceforth  clank  in  sil- 
ver music  at  my  side,  singing  to  my  ear,  and  mine  alone,  thy 
chants  of  battle,  thy  rejoicing  songs  of  slaughter  I 

Yesterday  evening,  three  gentlemen  of  Lord  Dalkeith's 
party  arrivod  from  a  trip  to  Palmyra.  The  road  thither  lies 
through  a  part  of  the  Syrian  Desert  belonging  to  the  Ancyzeh 
tribe,  who  are  now  supposed  to  be  in  league  with  the  Druses, 
against  the  Government.  Including  this  party,  only  six  per- 
Bons  have  succeeded  in  reaching  Palmyra  within  a  year,  and 
two  of  them,  Messrs.  Xocl  and  Cathcart,  were  imprisoned  four 
days  by  the  Arabs,  and  only  escaped  by  the  accidental  depar- 
ture of  a  caravan  for  Damascus.  The  present  party  was 
obliged  to  travel  almost  wholly  by  night,  running  the  gauntlet 
of  a  dozen  Arab  encampments,  and  was  only  allowed  a  day's 
stay  at  Palmyra.  They  were  all  disguised  as  Bedouins, 
and  took  nothing  with  them  but  the  necessary  provisions. 
Thej  made  their  appearance  here  last  evening,  in  long,  white 


133  THE  LAKD3  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

abas,  with  the  Bedouia  keffk  bound  over  their  heads,  tbeif 
faces  burnt,  their  eyes  inflamed,  and  their  frames  feverish  with 
seven  days  and  nights  of  travel.  The  shekh  who  conducted 
them  was  not  an  Aneyzeh,  and  wouM  have  lost  his  life  had 
they  fallen  in  with  any  of  that  triba. 


THE     VISIONS     OF     HASHEESH.  133 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE     VISIONS     OF      HASHEE3H. 

"  Exulting,  trembling,  rapinir,  fainting, 
Possessed  beyond  the  Muse's  painting." 

COLLIKB. 

PuRiNG  my  stay  in  Damascus,  that  insatiable  curiosity  wtich 
leads  me  to  prefer  the  acquisition  of  all  lawful  knowledge 
through  the  channels  of  my  own  personal  experience,  rather 
than  in  less  satisfactory  and  less  laborious  ways,  induced  me  to 
make  a  trial  of  the  celebrated  Hasheesh — that  remarkable  drug 
which  supplies  the  luxurious  Syrian  with  dreams  more  alluring 
and  more  gorgeous  than  the  Chinese  extracts  from  his  darling 
opium  pipe.  The  use  of  Hasheesh — which  is  a  preparation  of 
the  dried  leaves  of  the  camiahis  indica — has  been  familiar  to 
the  East  for  many  centuries.  During  the  Crusades,  it  was 
frequently  used  by  the  Saracen  warriors  to  stimulate  them  to 
the  work  of  slaughter,  and  from  the  Arabic  term  of  "  Ilasha- 
the'en,^'  or  Eaters  of  Hasheesh,  as  applied  to  them,  the  word 
"  assassin "  has  been  naturally  derived.  An  infusion  of  the 
Fame  plant  gives  to  the  drink  called  "  bhang,"  which  is  in  com- 
mon use  throughout  India  and  Malaysia,  its  peculiar  properties. 
Ttius  prepared,  it  is  a  more  fierce  and  fatal  stimulant  than  tlie 
paste  of  sugar  and  spices  to  which  the  Turk  resorts,  as  the 
food  of  his  voluptuous  evening  reveries.  While  its  immcdiatft 
effects    seem   to   be   more   potent   than   those   of  opium,    its 


134:  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN. 

habitual  use,  though  attended  with  ultimate  and  permanent 
injury  to  the  system,  rarely  results  in  such  utter  wreck  ot 
mind  and  body  as  that  to  which  the  votaries  of  the  latter  drug 
inevitably  condemn  themselves. 

A  previous  experience  of  the  effects  of  hasheesh — (vhich  1 
took  once,  and  in  a  very  mild  form,  while  in  Egypt — was  so 
peculiar  in  its  character,  that  my  curiosity,  instead  of  being 
satisfied,  only  prompted  me  the  more  to  throw  myself,  for  once, 
wholly  under  its  influence.  The  sensations  it  then  produced 
were  those,  physically,  of  exquisite  lightness  and  airiness — 
mentally,  of  a  wonderfully  keen  perception  of  the  ludicrous,  in 
the  most  simple  and  familiar  objects.  During  the  half  hour  in 
which  it  lasted,  I  was  at  no  time  so  far  under  its  control,  that 
I  could  not,  with  the  clearest  perception,  study  the  changes 
through  which  I  passed.  I  noted,  with  careful  attention,  the 
fine  sensations  which  spread  throughout  the  whole  tissue  of  my 
nervous  fibre,  each  thrill  helping  to  divest  my  frame  of  its 
earthy  and  material  nature,  until  my  substance  appeared  to 
me  no  grosser  than  the  vapors  of  the  atmosphere,  and  while 
sitting  in  the  calm  of  the  Egyptian  twilight,  I  expected  to  be 
lifted  up  and  carried  away  by  the  first  breeze  that  should  ruffle 
the  JSile.  While  this  process  was  going  on,  the  objects  by 
which  I  was  suri'ounded  assumed  a  strange  and  whimsical 
expression.  My  pipe,  the  oars  which  my  boatmen  plied,  the 
turban  worn  by  the  captain,  the  water-jars  and  culinary  imple- 
ments, became  in  themselves  so  inexpressibly  absurd  and  com' 
ical,  that  I  was  provoked  into  a  long  fit  of  laughter.  The 
hallucination  died  away  as  gradually  as  it  came,  leaving  me 
overcome  with  a  soft  and  pleasant  drowsiness,  from  which  I 
sank  iutD  a  deep,  refreshing  sleep. 


THE    VISIONS    OF    HASHEESH  135 

M7  companion  and  an  Englisli  gentleman,  who,  \^ith  nis 
wife,  was  also  residing  in  Antonio's  pleasant  caravanserai — • 
agreed  to  join  me  in  the  experiment.  The  dragoman  of  the 
latter  was  deputed  to  procure  a  sufficient  quantity  of  the  drug, 
He  was  a  dark  Egyptian,  speaking  only  the  lingua  franca  of 
the  East,  and  asked  me,  as  he  took  the  money  and  departed 
on  his  mission,  whether  he  should  get  hasheesh  "per  ridere,  o 
ffpr  dormirel"  "  Oh,  per  ridere,  of  course,"  I  answered  ;  "and 
Bee  that  it  be  strong  and  fresh."  It  is  customary  with  the 
Syrians  to  take  a  small  i)ortion  immediately  before  the  evening 
meal,  as  it  is  thus  diffused  through  the  stomach  and  acts  more 
gradually,  as  well  as  more  gently,  upon  the  system.  As  our 
dinner-hour  was  at  sunset,  I  proposed  taking  hasheesh  at  that 
time,  but  my  friends,  fearing  that  its  operation  might  be  more 
speedy  upon  fresh  subjects,  and  thus  betray  them  into  some 
absurdity  in  the  presence  of  the  other  travellers,  preferred 
waiting  until  after  the  meal.  It  was  then  agreed  that  wo 
should  retire  to  our  room,  which,  as  it  rose  like  a  tower  one 
story  higher  than  the  rest  of  the  building,  was  in  a  manner 
isolated,  and  would  screen  us  from  observation. 

We  commenced  by  taking  a  tea-spoonful  each  of  the  mixture 
which  Abdallah  had  procured.  This  was  about  the  quantity  I 
had  taken  in  Egypt,  and  as  the  effect  then  had  been  so  slight, 
I  judged  that  we  ran  no  risk  of  taking  an  over-dose.  The 
strength  of  the  drug,  however,  must  have  been  far  greater  iu 
this  instance,  for  whereas  I  could  in  the  former  case  distinguish 
no  flavor  but  that  of  sugar  and  rose  leaves,  I  now  found  th« 
taste  intensely  bi'  ter  and  repulsive  to  the  palate.  We  allowed 
the  paste  to  dissolve  slowly  on  our  tongues,  and  sat  some  time, 
quietly  waiting  the  res  lit.     But,  having  been  taken  upon  a 


136  THE    LA^n^s    of   the    SARACEN', 

full  stomach,  its  operation  was  hindered,  and  after  the  lapse 
of  nearly  an  hour,  we  could  not  detect  the  least  change  in  our 
feelings.  My  friends  loudly  expressed  their  conviction  of  the 
humljug  of  haslieesh,  but  I,  unwilling  to  give  up  the  experi- 
ment at  this  point,  proposed  that  we  should  take  an  additional 
half  spoonful,  and  follow  it  with  &  cup  of  hot  tea,  which,  if 
there  were  really  any  virtue  in  the  preparation,  could  not  fail 
to  call  it  into  action.  This  was  done,  though  not  without 
some  misgivings,  as  we  were  all  ignorant  of  the  precise  quan- 
tity which  constituted  a  dose,  and  the  limits  within  which  the 
drug  could  be  taken  with  safety.  It  was  now  ten  o'clock  ;  the 
streets  of  Damascus  were  gradually  becoming  silent,  and  the 
fair  city  was  bathed  in  the  yellow  lustre  of  the  Syrian  moon. 
Only  in  the  marble  court-yard  below  us,  a  few  dragomen  and 
mukkairee  lingered  under  the  lemon-trees,  and  beside  the  foun- 
tain in  the  centre, 

I  was  seated  alone,  nearly  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  talking 
with  my  friends,  who  were  lounging  upon  a  sofa  placed  in  a 
sort  of  alcove,  at  the  farther  end,  when  the  same  fine  nervous 
thrill,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  suddenly  shot  through  me. 
Cut  this  time  it  was  accompanied  with  a  burning  sensation  at 
the  pit  of  the  stomach  ;  and,  instead  of  growing  upon  me  with 
the  gradual  pace  of  healthy  slumber,  and  resolving  me,  aa 
before,  into  air,  it  came  with  the  intensity  of  a  pang,  and  shot 
throbbing  along  the  nerves  to  the  extremities  of  my  body.  The 
sentje  of  limitation— of  the  confinement  of  our  senses  within 
the  bounds  of  our  own  flush  and  blood— instantly  fell  away. 
The  walls  of  my  frame  were  burst  outward  and  tumbled  into 
ruin ;  and,  without  thinking  what  form  I  wore— losing  sight 
even  of  all  idea  of  form— I  felt  that  I  existed  throughout  a 


THE     VISIOXS     OF     HASHEESH  137 

7ast  extent  of  space.  The  blood,  pulsed  from  my  heart,  aped 
through  uncounted  leagues  before  it  reached  my  ^extremities  , 
the  air  drawn  into  my  lungs  expanded  into  seas  of  limpid 
ether,  and  the  arch  of  my  skull  was  broader  than  the  vault  of 
heaven.  Within  the  concave  that  hold  uiy  brain,  were  the 
fatncmless  deeps  of  blue  ;  clouds  floated  there,  and  the  winds 
of  heaven  rolled  them  together,  and  there  shone  the  orb  of  the 
Bun  It  was — though  I  thought  not  of  that  at  the  time — like 
a  revelation  of  the  mystery  of  omnipresence.  It  is  diffcult  to 
describe  this  sensation,  or  the  rapidity  with  which  it  mastered 
me.  In  the  state  of  mental  exaltation  in  which  I  was  then 
plunged,  all  sensations,  as  they  rose,  suggested  more  or  less 
coherent  images.  They  presented  themselves  to  me  in  a  double 
form  :  one  physical,  and  therefore  to  a  certain  extent  tangible  ; 
the  other  spiritual,  and  revealing  itself  in  a  succession  of  £i)leii- 
did  metaphors.  The  physical  feeling  of  extended  being  was 
accompanied  by  the  image  of  an  exploding  meteor,  not  sub- 
siding into  darkness,  but  continuing  to  shoot  from  its  centre  or 
nucleus — which  corresponded  to  the  burning  spot  at  the  pit  of 
my  stomach — incessant  adumbrations  of  light  that  finully  lost 
themselves  in  the  infinity  of  space.  To  my  mind,  even  now, 
this  image  is  still  the  best  illustration  of  my  sensations,  as  I 
recall  them  ;  but  I  greatly  doubt  whether  the  reader  will  find 
it  equally  clear. 

My  curiosity  was  now  in  a  way  of  being  satisfied  ;  the 
Spirit  (demon,  shall  I  not  rather  say?)  of  Hasheesh  had  entire 
possession  of  me.  I  was  cast  upon  the  flood  of  his  illusions,  and 
drifted  helplessly  whithersoever  they  might  choose  to  bear  mo 
The  thrills  which  ran  through  my  nervous  system  became  more 
rapid  and  fierce,  accompanied  with  sensations  that  *tceped  my 


138  THK  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

whole  being  in  unutteraljlc  rapture.  I  was  encompassed  by  & 
sea  of  light,  through  which  played  the  pure,  harmonious  colors 
that  are  born  of  light.  While  endeavoring,  in  broken  express 
sious,  to  describe  my  feelings  to  ray  friends,  who  sat  looking 
upon  me  incredulously — not  yet  having  been  affected  by  the 
drug— I  suddenly  found  myself  at  the  foot  of  the  great  Pyra- 
mid of  Cheops.  The  tapering  courses  of  yellow  limestone 
gleamed  like  gold  in  the  sun,  and  the  pile  rose  so  high  that  it 
seemed  to  lean  for  support  upon  the  blue  arch  of  the  sky.  1 
wished  to  ascend  it,  and  the  wish  alone  placed  me  immediately 
upon  its  apex,  lifted  thousands  of  feet  above  the  wheat-fields 
and  palm-groves  of  Egypt.  I  cast  my  eyes  downward,  and, 
to  my  astonishment,  saw  that  it  was  built,  not  of  limestone, 
but  of  huge  square  plugs  of  Cavendish  tobacco  I  Words  can- 
not paint  the  overwhelming  sense  of  the  ludicrous  which  I 
then  experienced.  I  writhed  on  my  chair  in  an  agony  of 
laughter,  which  was  only  relieved  by  the  vision  melting  away 
like  a  dissolving  view  ;  till,  out  of  my  confusion  of  indistinct 
images  and  fragments  of  images,  another  and  more  wonderful 
vision  arose. 

The  more  vividly  I  recall  the  scene  which  followed,  the  more 
carefully  I  restore  its  different  features,  and  separate  the  many 
threads  of  sensation  which  it  wove  into  one  gorgeous  web,  the 
more  I  despair  of  representing  its  exceeding  glory.  I  waa 
moving  over  the  Desert,  not  upon  the  rocking  dromedary,  but 
seated  in  a  barque  made  of  mother-of-pearl,  and  studded  with 
jewels  of  surpassing  lustre.  The  sand  was  of  grains  of  gold, 
and  my  keel  slid  through  them  without  jar  or  sound.  The  air 
was  radiant  with  excess  of  light,  though  no  sun  was  to  be  seen. 
I  inhaled  the  most  delicious  perfumes  ;  and  harmonies,  such  ai 


THE     VISIONS    OF     HASnEESH  139 

Beethoven  may  have  lujard  in  dreams,  but  never  wrote,  floated 
around  me.  The  atmosphere  itself  was  light,  odor,  music  ; 
and  each  and  all  sublimated  beyond  anything  the  sober  senses 
are  capable  of  receiving.  Before  me — for  a  thousand  leagues, 
as  it  seemed — stretched  a  vista  of  rainbows,  whose  colors 
gleamed  with  the  splendor  of  gems — arches  of  living  amethyst, 
sapphire,  emerald,  topaz,  and  ruby.  By  thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands,  they  flew  past  me,  as  my  dazzling  barge  sped 
down  the  magnificent  arcade  ;  yet  the  vista  still  stretched  as 
far  as  ever  before  me.  I  revelled  in  a  sensuous  elysium,  which 
was  perfect,  because  no  sense  was  left  nngratified.  But  beyond 
all,  my  mind  was  filled  with  a  boundless  feeling  of  triumph. 
My  journey  was  that  of  a  conqueror — not  of  a  conqueror  who 
Bubdues  his  race,  either  by  Love  or  by  Will,  for  I  forgot  that 
Man  existed — but  one  victorious  over  the  grandest  as  well  aa 
the  subtlest  forces  of  Nature.  The  spirits  of  Light,  Color, 
Odor,  Sound,  and  Motion  were  my  slaves  ;  and,  having  these, 
I  was  master  of  the  universe. 

Those  who  are  endowed  to  any  extent  with  the  imaginative 
faculty,  must  have  at  least  once  in  their  lives  experienced  feel- 
ings which  may  give  them  a  clue  to  the  exalted  sensuous 
raptures  of  my  triumphal  march.  The  view  of  a  sublime 
mountain  landscape,  the  hearing  of  a  grand  orchestral  sym- 
phony, or  of  a  choral  upborne  by  the  "  full-voiced  organ,"  or 
even  the  beauty  and  luxury  of  a  cloudless  summer  day,  sug- 
gests emotions  similar  in  kind,  if  less  intense.  They  took  a 
warmth  and  glow  from  that  pure  animal  joy  which  degrade? 
not,  but  spiritualizes  and  ennobles  our  material  part,  and 
which  diCTers  from  cold,  abstract,  intellectual  enjoyment,  as  the 
flaming  diamond  of  the  Orient  diflfers  from  the  iciclo  of  the 


140  THE  LANta  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

North.  Those  finer  senses,  which  occupy  a  middle  ground 
between  our  animal  and  intellectual  appetites,  were  suddenjy 
developed  to  a  pitch  beyond  what  I  had  ever  dreamed,  and 
being  thus  at  one  and  the  same  time  gratified  to  the  ft  Host 
extent  of  their  preternatural  capacity,  the  result  was  a  [ingle 
harmonious  sensation,  to  describe  which  human  language  has 
no  epithet.  Mahomet's  Paradise,  with  its  palaces  of  ruby  and 
emerald,  its  airs  of  musk  and  cassia,  and  its  rivers  colder  than 
snow  and  sweeter  thau  honey,  would  have  been  a  poor  and 
mean  terminus  for  my  arcade  of  rainbows.  Yet  in  the  charao 
ter  of  this  paradise,  in  the  gorgeous  fancies  of  the  Arabian 
Nights,  in  the  glow  and  luxury  of  all  Oriental  poetry,  I  now 
recognize  more  or  less  of  the  agency  of  hasheesh. 

The  fulness  of  my  rapture  expanded  the  sense  of  time  ;  and 
though  the  whole  vision  was  probably  not  more  than  five 
minutes  in  passing  through  my  mind,  years  seemed  to  have 
elapsed  while  I  shot  under  the  dazzling  myriads  of  rainbow 
arches.  By  and  by,  the  rainbows,  the  barque  of  pearl  and 
jewels,  and  the  desert  of  golden  sand,  vanished  ;  and,  still 
bathed  in  light  and  perfume,  I  found  myself  in  a  land  of  green 
and  flowery  lawns,  divided  by  hills  of  gently  undulating  out- 
line.  But,  although  the  vegetation  was  the  richest  of  earth, 
there  were  neither  streams  nor  fountains  to  be  seen  ;  and  the 
people  who  came  from  the  hills,  with  brilliant  garments  that 
Bhone  in  the  sun,  besought  me  to  give  them  the  blessing  of 
water.  Their  hands  were  full  of  branches  of  the  coral  honey- 
Buckle,  in  bloom.  These  I  took  ;  and,  breaking  off  the  flowera 
one  by  one,  set  them  in  the  earth.  The  slender,  trumpet-like 
tubes  immediately  became  shafts  of  masonry,  and  sauk  deep 
into  the  earth  ;  the  lip  of  the  flower  changed  into  a  ciri'ular 


THE    VISIONS     OF     HASHEESH.  141 

Dionth  of  rose-colored  marble,  and  the  people,  leaning  over  its 
brink,  lowered  their  pitchers  to  the  bottom  with  cords,  and 
drew  them  up  again,  filled  to  the  brim,  and  dripping  with 
honey. 

The  most  remarkable  feature  of  these  illusions  was,  that  at 
the  time  when  I  was  most  completely  under  their  influence,  I 
knew  myself  to  be  seated  in  the  tower  of  Antonio's  hotel  in 
Damascus,  knew  that  I  had  taken  hasheesh,  and  that  the 
strange,  gorgeeus  and  ludicrous  fancies  which  possessed  me, 
were  the  efifect  of  it.  At  the  very  same  instant  that  I  looked 
upon  the  Yalley  of  the  Kile  from  the  pyramid,  slid  over  tho 
Desert,  or  created  my  marvellous  wells  in  that  beautiful  pasto- 
ral country,  I  saw  the  furniture  of  my  room,  its  mosaic  pave- 
ment, the  quaint  Saracenic  niches  in  the  walls,  the  painted  and 
gilded  beams  of  the  ceiling,  and  the  couch  iu  the  recess  before 
me,  with  my  two  companions  watching  me.  Both  sensations 
were  simultaneous,  and  equally  palpable.  While  I  was  most 
given  up  to  the  magnificent  delusion,  I  saw  its  cause  and  felt 
its  absurdity  most  clearly.  Metaphysicians  say  that  the  mind 
is  incapable  of  performing  two  operations  at  the  same  time, 
and  may  attempt  to  explain  this  phenomenon  by  supposing  a 
rapid  and  incessant  vibration  of  the  perceptions  between  tho 
two  states.  This  explanation,  however,  is  not  satisfactory  to 
me  ;  for  not  more  clearly  does  a  skilful  musician  with  the 
same  breath  blow  two  distinct  musical  notes  from  a  bugle,  than 
I  was  conscious  of  two  distinct  conditions  of  being  in  the  sam« 
moment.  Yet,  singular  as  it  may  seem,  neither  conflicted  witl 
the  other.  My  enjoyment  of  the  visions  was  complete  and 
absolute,  undisturbed  by  the  faintest  doubt  of  their  reality  ; 
while,  iu  some  other  chamber  of  my  brain.  Reason  sat  coolly 


142  THK     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN. 

watching  them,  and  heaping  the  livehest  ridicule  on  their  fan 
tastic  features.  One  set  of  nerves  was  thrilled  with  the  bliaa 
of  the  gods,  while  another  was  convulsed  with  unquenchable 
laughter  at  that  very  bliss.  My  highest  ecstacies  could  not 
bear  down  and  silence  the  weight  of  my  ridicule,  which,  in  ita 
turn,  was  powerless  to  prevent  me  from  running  into  other  and 
more  gorgeous  absurdities.  I  was  double,  not  "  swan  and 
shadow,"  but  rather,  Sphinx-like,  human  and  beast.  A  true 
Sphinx,  I  was  a  riddle  and  a  mystery  to  myself. 

The  drug,  which  had  been  retarded  in  its  operation  on 
account  of  having  been  taken  after  a  meal,  now  began  to 
make  itself  more  powerfully  felt.  The  visions  were  more  gro- 
tesque than  ever,  but  less  agreeable  ;  and  there  was  a  painful 
tension  throughout  my  nervous  system — the  eflfect  of  over-sti- 
mulus. I  was  a  mass  of  transparent  jelly,  and  a  confectioner 
poured  me  into  a  twisted  mould.  I  threw  my  chair  aside,  and 
writhed  and  tortured  myself  for  some  time  to  force  my  loose 
substance  into  the  mould.  At  last,  when  I  had  so  far  suc- 
ceeded that  only  one  foot  remained  outside,  it  was  lifted 
off,  and  another  mould,  of  still  more  crooked  and  intricate 
shape,  substituted.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  contortions  through 
which  I  ivent,  to  accomplish  the  end  of  my  gelatinous  destiny, 
would  have  been  extremely  ludicrous  to  a  spectator,  but  to  me 
they  were  painful  and  disagreeable.  The  sober  half  of  me 
went  into  fits  of  laughter  over  them,  and  through  that  laugh- 
ter, my  vision  shifted  into  another  scene.  I  had  laughed  until 
my  eyes  overQawed  profusely.  Every  drop  that  fell,  unmedi- 
ately  became  a  large  loaf  of  bread,  and  tumbled  upon  the 
shop-board  of  a  baker  in  the  bazaar  at  Damascus,  The  more 
I  laughed,  the  faster   the  loaves  fell,  until  such  a  pile  was 


THE     VISIONS     OF     HASnEESti.  a43 

raised  about  the  baker,  tliut  I  could  hardly  see  the  top  of 
his  liead.  "  The  iimii  will  be  suffocated,"  I  cried,  "  but  if  he 
wee  to  die,  I  cannot  stop  1" 

My  perceptions  now  became  more  dim  and  confused.  I  felt 
that  I  was  in  the  grasp  of  some  giant  force  ;  and,  in  the  glim- 
mering of  my  fading  reason,  grew  earnestly  alarmed,  for  the 
terrible  stress  under  which  my  frame  labored  increased  every 
moment.  A  fierce  and  furious  heat  radiated  from  my  stomach 
throughout  ray  system  ;  my  mouth  and  throat  were  as  dry  and 
bard  as  if  made  of  brass,  and  my  tongue,  it  seemed  to  me,  was  a 
bar  of  rusty  iron.  I  seized  a  pitcher  of  water,  and  draulc  long 
and  deeply  ;  but  I  might  as  well  have  druuk  so  much  air,  for  uot 
only  did  it  impart  no  moisture,  but  my  palate  and  throat  gave  me 
no  intelligence  of  having  drunk  at  all.  I  stood  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  brandishing  my  arms  convulsively,  and  heavinj 
sighs  that  seemed  to  shatter  my  whole  being.  "  Will  no 
one,"  I  cried  in  distress,  "  cast  out  this  devil  that  has  posses- 
sion of  me  ?"  I  no  longer  saw  the  room  nor  my  friends,  but  I 
heard  one  of  them  saying,  "  It  must  be  real  ;  he  could  not 
counterfeit  such  an  expression  as  that.  But  it  don't  look 
much  like  pleasure."  Immediately  afterwards  there  was  a 
scream  of  the  wildest  laughter,  and  my  countryman  sprang 
npou  the  floor,  exclaiming,  "  0,  ye  gods  1  I  am  a  locomotive  1" 
This  was  his  ruling  hallucination  ;  and,  for  the  space  of  two  or 
three  hours,  he  continued  to  pace  to  and  fro  with  a  measured 
stride,  exhaling  his  breath  in  violent  jets,  and  when  he  spoke, 
dividing  his  words  into  syllables,  each  of  which  he  brought  out 
with  a  jerk,  at  the  same  time  turning  his  hands  at  his  sides,  as 
if  they  were  the  cranks  of  imaginary  wheels.  The  English- 
man, as  sooQ  as  he  felt  the  dose  beginning  to  take  effect,  pru 


144  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

denily  retreated  to  his  own  room,  and  what  the  nature  cf  Lis 
visions  was,  we  never  learned,  for  he  refused  to  tell,  and, 
moreover,  enjoined  the  strictest  silence  on  his  wife. 

By  this  time  it  was  nearly  midnight.  I  had  passed  through 
the  Paradise  of  Hasheesh,  and  was  plunged  at  once  into  its 
fiercest  Hell.  In  my  ignorance  I  had  taken  what,  I  have 
smce  learned,  would  have  been  a  sufficient  portion  for  six  men, 
and  was  now  paying  a  frightful  penalty  for  my  curiosity.  The 
excited  blood  rushed  through  my  frame  with  a  sound  like  the 
roaring  of  mighty  waters.  It  was  projected  into  my  eyes  until 
I  could  no  longer  see  ;  it  beat  thickly  in  my  ears,  and  so 
throbbed  in  my  heart,  that  I  feared  the  ribs  would  give  way 
under  its  blows.  I  tore  open  my  vest,  placed  my  hand  over 
the  spot,  and  tried  to  count  the  pulsations  ;  but  there  were 
two  hearts,  one  beating  at  the  rate  of  a  thousand  beats  a 
minute,  and  the  other  with  a  slow,  dull  motion.  My  throat,  I 
thought,  was  filled  to  tlie  brim  with  blood,  and  streams  of 
blood  were  pouring  from  my  ears.  I  felt  them  gushing  warm 
down  my  cheeks  and  neck.  With  a  maddened,  desperate  feel 
iug,  I  fled  from  the  room,  and  walked  over  the  flat,  terraced 
roof  of  the  house.  My  body  seemed  to  shrink  and  grow  rigid 
as  I  wrestled  with  the  demon,  and  my  face  to  l)ecome  wild, 
lean  and  haggard.  Some  lines  which  had  struck  me,  years 
before,  in  reading  Mrs.  Browning's  "  Rhyme  of  the  Duchess 
Msiy,"  flashed  into  my  mind  : — 

''And  the  horse,  in  stark  despair,  with  his  front  hoofs  poised  in  ai', 

On  the  last  verge,  rears  amain  ; 
A.nd  he  hangs,  he  rocks  between — and  his  nostrils  curdle  in — 
And  he  sliivcrs,  head  and  hoof,  and  the  flakes  of  foam  fall  off; 

And  his  face  grows  fierce  and  thin." 


THE     VISIONS     OF     HASnEESIf.  145 

That  picture  of  animal  terror  and  agony  was  mine.  I  was  the 
horse,  hanging  poised  on  the  verge  of  the  giddy  tower,  the 
next  moment  to  be  l)orne  slieer  down  to  destruction.  Involun- 
tarily, I  raised  my  hand  to  feel  the  leainiess  and  sharpness  of 
my  face.  Oh  horror  1  the  llesh  had  fallen  from  my  bones,  and 
it  was  a  skeleton  head  that  I  carried  on  my  shoulders  1  With 
one  bound  I  sprang  to  the  parapet,  and  looked  down  into  the 
silent  courtyard,  then  Cllcd  with  the  shadows  thrown  into  it  by 
the  sinking  moon.  Shall  I  cast  myself  down  headlong  ?  was 
the  question  I  proposed  to  myself ;  but  though  the  horror  of 
that  skeleton  delusion  was  greater  than  my  fear  of  death,  there 
was  an  invisible  hand  at  my  breast  which  pushed  me  away  from 
the  brink. 

I  made  my  way  back  to  the  room,  in  a  state  of  the  keenest 
sufifering.  My  companion  was  still  a  locomotive,  rushing  to 
and  fro,  and  jerking  out  his  syllables  with  the  disjointed  accent 
peculiar  to  a  steam-engine.  Ilis  mouth  had  turned  to  brass, 
like  mine,  and  he  raised  the  pitcher  to  his  lips  in  the  attempt 
to  moisten  it,  but  before  he  had  taken  a  mouthful,  set  the 
pitcher  down  again  with  a  yell  of  laughter,  crying  out  :  "How 
^an  I  take  water  into  my  boiler,  while  I  am  letting  off  steam  T' 

But  I  was  now  too  far  gone  to  feel  the  absurdity  of  this,  or 
bis  other  exclamations.  I  was  sinking  deeper  and  deeper  into 
a  pit  of  unutterable  agony  and  despair.  For,  although  1  was 
not  conscious  of  real  pain  in  any  part  of  my  body,  the  cruel 
tension  to  which  my  nerves  had  been  subjected  filled  niu 
through  and  through  with  a  sensation  of  distress  which  was 
far  more  severe  than  pain  itself.  In  addition  to  this,  the  rem- 
nant of  will  with  which  I  struggled  against  the  demon,  became 
gradually  weaker,  and  I  felt  that  I  should  soon  be  powerless 

1 


146  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

in  bis  liauds.  Every  effort  to  preserve  my  reason  was  rtccom 
panicd  by  a  pang  of  mortal  fear,  lest  wbat  I  now  experienced 
was  insanity,  and  would  bold  mastery  over  me  for  ever.  The 
thought  of  death,  which  also  haunted  me,  was  far  less  bitter 
than  this  dread.  I  knew  that  in  the  struggle  which  Was  going 
on  in  my  frame,  I  was  borne  fearfully  near  the  dark  gulf,  and 
the  thought  that,  at  such  a  tune,  both  reason  and  will  were 
leaving  my  brain,  filled  me  with  an  agony,  the  depth  and 
blackness  of  which  I  should  vainly  attempt  to  portray.  I 
threw  myself  on  my  bed,  with  the  excited  blood  still  roaring 
wildly  in  my  ears,  my  heart  throbbing  with  a  force  that  seemed 
to  be  rapidly  wearing  away  my  life,  my  throat  dry  as  a  pot- 
sherd, and  my  stiffened  tongue  cleaving  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth — resisting  no  longer,  but  awaiting  my  fate  with  the 
apathy  of  despair. 

My  companion  was  now  approaching  the  same  condition, 
but  as  the  effect  of  the  drug  on  him  had  been  less  violent,  so 
his  stage  of  suffering  was  more  clamorous.  He  cried  out  to 
me  that  he  was  dying,  imj^lored  me  to  help  him,  and  reproached 
me  vehemently,  because  I  lay  there  silent,  motionless,  and 
apparently  careless  of  his  danger.  "  Why  will  he  disturb 
me  ?"  I  thought ;  "  he  thinks  he  is  dying,  but  what  is  death  to 
madness  ?  Let  him  die  ;  a  thousand  deaths  were  more  easily 
borne  than  the  pangs  I  suffer."  While  I  was  sufficiently  con- 
scious to  hear  his  exclamations,  they  only  provoked  my  keen 
anger  ;  but  after  a  time,  my  senses  became  clouded,  and  I 
Bank  into  a  stupor.  As  near  as  I  can  judge,  this  must  have 
been  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  rather  more  than  five 
liours  after  the  hasheesh  began  to  take  effect.  I  lay  thus  all 
the  following  day  and  night,  in  a  state  of  gray  blank  oblivion, 


THE     VISIONS     OF     HASUEF.SH.  141 

broken  only  by  a  single  wandering  gleam  of  consciousuess  1 
recollect  bearing  Francois'  voice.  He  told  me  afterwards  that 
I  arose,  attempted  to  dress  myself,  drank  two  cups  of  coffee, 
and  then  fell  back  into  the  same  death-like  stupor  ;  but  of  all 
this,  I  did  not  retain  the  least  knowledge.  On  the  morning  of 
the  second  day,  after  a  sleep  of  thirty  hours,  I  awoke  again  to 
the  world,  with  a  system  utterly  prostrate  and  unstrung,  and 
a  brain  clouded  with  the  lingering  images  of  my  visions.  I 
knew  where  I  was,  and  what  had  happened  to  me,  but  all  that 
I  saw  still  remained  unreal  and  shadowy.  There  was  no  taste 
In  what  I  ate,  no  refreshment  in  what  I  drauk,  and  it  required 
a  painful  effort  to  comprehend  what  was  said  to  me  and  return 
a  coherent  answer.  Will  and  Reason  had  come  back,  but  they 
still  sat  unsteadily  upon  their  thrones. 

My  friend,  who  was  much  further  advanced  in  his  recovery, 
accompanied  me  to  the  adjoining  bath,  which  I  hoped  would 
assist  in  restoring  me.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  I  pre- 
served the  outward  appearance  of  consciousness.  In  spite  of 
myself,  a  veil  now  and  then  fell  over  my  mind,  and  after 
wandering  for  years,  as  it  seemed,  in  some  distant  world,  I 
awoke  with  a  shock,  to  find  myself  in  the  steamy  halls  of  the 
bath,  with  a  brown  Syrian  polishing  my  limbs.  I  suspect  that 
my  language  must  have  been  rambling  and  incoherent,  and 
that  the  menials  who  had  me  in  charge  understood  my  condi- 
tion, for  as  soon  as  I  had  stretched  myself  upon  the  couch 
which  follows  the  bath,  a  glass  of  very  acid  sherbet  was  pre- 
sented to  me,  and  after  drinking  it  I  experienced  instant  relief. 
Stdl  the  spell  was  not  wholly  broken,  and  for  two  or  thrcfl 
days  I  continued  subject  to  frequent  involuntary  fits  of  absence, 
which  made  me  insensible,  for  the  time,  to  all  that  was  passing 


148  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

around  me,  I  walked  the  streets  of  Damascus  with  a  strange 
consciousness  that  I  was  in  some  other  place  at  the  same  time, 
and  with  a  constant  effort  to  reurite  my  divided  perceptions. 

Previous  to  the  experiment,  we  had  decided  on  making  a 
bargain  with  the  shekh  for  the  journey  to  Palmyra.  The 
Btato,  however,  in  which  we  now  found  ourselves,  obliged  us  tc 
relinquish  the  plan.  Perhaps  the  excitement  of  a  forced  march 
across  the  desert,  and  a  conflict  with  the  hostile  Arabs,  which 
was  quite  likely  to  happen,  might  have  assisted  us  in  throwing 
off  the  baneful  effects  of  the  drug  ;  but  all  the  charm  which 
lay  in  the  name  of  Palmyra  and  the  romantic  interest  of  the 
trip,  w^as  gone.  I  was  without  courage  and  without  energy, 
and  nothing  remained  for  me  but  to  leave  Damascus, 

Yet,  fearful  as  my  rash  experiment  proved  to  me,  I  did  not 
regret  having  made  it.  It  revealed  to  me  deeps  of  rapturt 
and  of  suffering  which  ray  natural  faculties  never  could  have 
sounded.  It  has  taught  me  the  majesty  of  human  reason  and 
of  human  will,  even,  in  the  weakest,  and  the  awful  peril  of 
tampering  with  that  which  assails  their  integrity.  I  have  here 
faithfully  and  fully  written  out  my  experience,  on  account  of 
the  lesson  which  it  may  convey  to  others.  If  I  have  unfortu- 
nately failed  in  my  design,  and  have  but  awakened  that  restless 
curiosity  which  I  iiave  endeavored  to  forestall,  let  me  beg  all 
who  are  thereby  led  to  repeat  the  experiment  upon  themselves, 
that  they  be  content  to  take  the  portion  of  hasheesh  which  is 
considered  sufficient  for  one  man,  and  not,  like  me,  swallow 
9U0ugh  for  six. 


A     DI83EKTATI0N     CN     BATUIN'G    AND    BODIES.  14** 


CHAPTER    XI 

A     DfSSlKTATION      OX      BATHING     AND     DODIKS. 

"  No  swan-soft  woman,  rubbed  with  lucid  oils, 
Tho  gift  of  !»  ouauiored  god,  more  fair." 

Browsiso. 

We  shall  not  set  out  from  Damascus — we  shall  not  Ictue  the 
Pearl  of  the  Orient  to  glimmer  through  the  seas  of  foliage 
wherein  it  lies  buried — without  consecrating  a  day  to  the 
Bath,  that  material  agent  of  peace  and  good-will  unto  meu. 
We  have  bathed  in  the  Jordan,  like  Naaman,  and  been  made 
clean  ;  let  us  now  see  whether  Abana  and  Pharpar,  rivers  of 
Damascus,  are  better  than  the  waters  of  Israel. 

The  Bath  is  the  "  peculiar  institution"  of  the  East.  Coffee 
has  become  colonized  in  France  and  America  ;  the  Pipe  is  a 
cosmopolite,  and  liis  blue,  joyous  breath  congeals  under 
the  Arctic  Circle,  or  melts  languidly  into  the  soft  a-irs  of  the 
Polynesian  Isles  ;  but  the  Bath,  that  sensuous  elysium  which 
cradled  the  dreams  of  Plato,  and  the  visions  of  Zoroaster,  and 
the  solemn  meditations  of  Mahomet,  is  only  to  be  found  under 
an  Oriental  sky.  The  naked  natives  of  the  Torrid  Zone 
are  amphibious ;  they  do  not  bathe,  they  live  in  the  water 
The  European  and  Anglo-American  wash  themselves  and 
think  they  ha^  e  bathed  ;  they  shudder  under  cold  showers  and 


loO  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SAIIACKN. 

perform  laborious  antics  with  coarse  towels.  As  for  tne 
Hydropathist,  the  Genius  of  the  Bath,  whose  dwelling  is 
in  Damascus,  would  be  convulsed  with  scornful  lau2;hter,  could 
he  behold  that  aqueous  Diogenes  sitting  in  his  tub,  or  stretched 
out  in  his  wet  wrappings,  like  a  sodden  mummy,  in  a  cata 
comb  of  blankets  and  feather  beds.  As  the  rose  in  the  East 
has  a  rarer  perfume  than  in  other  lands,  so  does  the  Bath 
bestow  a  superior  purification  and  impart  a  more  profound 
enjoyment. 

Listen  not  unto  the  lamentations  of  travellers,  who  complain 
of  the  heat,  and  the  steam,  and  the  dislocations  of  their  joints 
They  belong  to  the  stiff-necked  generation,  who  resist  the  pro- 
cesses, whereunto  the  Oriental  yields  himself  body  and  soul. 
He  who  is  bathed  in  Damascus,  must  be  as  clay  in  the  hands 
of  a  potter.  The  Syrians  marvel  how  the  Franks  can  walk, 
so  difficult  is  it  to  bend  their  joints.  Moreover,  they  know  the 
difference  between  him  who  comes  to  the  Bath  out  of  a  mere 
idle  curiosity,  and  him  who  has  tasted  its  delight  and  holds  it 
in  due  honor.  Only  the  latter  is  permitted  to  know  all  its 
mysteries.  The  former  is  carelessly  hurried  through  the  ordi- 
nary forms  of  bathing,  and,  if  any  trace  of  the  cockney  remain 
in  him,  is  quite  as  likely  to  be  disgusted  as  pleased.  Again, 
there  are  many  second  and  third-rate  baths,  whither  cheating 
dragomen  conduct  their  victims,  in  consideration  of  a  division 
of  spoils  with  the  bath-keeper.  Hence  it  is,  that  the  Bath  has 
received  but  partial  justice  at  the  hands  of  tourists  in  the 
East.  If  any  one  doubts  this,  let  him  clothe  himself  with 
Oriental  passiveness  and  resignation,  go  to  the  Hamraan 
el-Khyateen,  at  Damascus,  or  the  Bath  of  Mahmoud  Pasha, 
at  Constantinople,  and  demand  that  he  be  perfectly  bathed. 


THE     BATH.  1ft  J 

Come  will,  me,  ivnd  I  will  show  you  the  mysteries  of  tii( 
perfect  bath.  Here  is  the  entrance,  a  heavy  Saracenic  arch 
opening  upon  the  crowded  bazaar.  We  descend  a  few  steps  to 
the  marble  pavement  of  a  lofty  octagonal  hall,  lighted  by  a 
dome.  There  is  a  jet  of  sparkling  water  in  the  centre,  falling 
into  a  heavy  stone  basin.  A  platform  about  five  feet  in  height 
runs  around  the  hall,  and  on  this  are  ranged  a  number  of  nar- 
row couches,  with  their  heads  to  the  wall,  like  the  pallets  in 
a  hospital  ward.  The  platform  is  covered  with  straw  mat- 
ting, and  from  the  wooden  gallery  which  rises  above  it  are 
suspended  towels,  with  blue  and  crimson  borders.  The  master 
of  the  bath  receives  us  courteously,  and  conducts  us  to  one  of 
the  vacant  couches.  We  kick  off  our  red  slippers  below,  and 
mount  the  steps  to  the  platform.  Yonder  traveller,  in  Frank 
dress,  who  has  just  entered,  goes  up  with  his  boots  on,  and  we 
know,  from  that  fact,  what  sort  of  a  bath  he  will  get. 

As  the  work  of  disrobing  proceeds,  a  dark-eyed  boy  appears 
'V'ith  a  napkin,  which  he  holds  before  us,  ready  to  bind  it  about 
the  waist,  as  soon  as  we  regain  our  primitive  form.  Another 
attendant  throws  a  napkin  over  our  shoulders  and  wraps  a 
third  around  our  head,  turban-wise.  He  then  thrusts  a  pair  of 
wooden  clogs  upon  our  feet,  and,  taking  us  by  the  arm,  steadies 
our  tottering  and  clattering  steps,  as  we  pass  through  a  low 
door  and  a  warm  ante-chamber  into  the  first  hall  of  the  bath. 
The  light,  falling  dimly  through  a  cluster  of  bull's-eyes  in  the 
domed  ceiling,  shows,  first,  a  silver  thread  of  water,  })laying 
VI  a  steamy  atmosphere  ;  next,  some  dark  motionless  objects, 
stretched  out  on  a  low  central  platform  of  marble.  The 
attendant  spreads  a  linen  sheet  in  one  of  the  vacant  places, 
olaces  a  pillow  at  one  end,  takes  off  our  clogs,  deposits  us 


152  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

gently  on  our  back,  and  leaves  us.  The  pavement  is  warn 
beneath  us,  and  the  first  breath  we  draw  gives  us  a  sense  of 
suffocation.  But  a  bit  of  burning  aloe-wood  has  just  beet 
carried  through  the  hall,  and  the  steam  is  permeated  with  fra 
grance.  The  dark-eyed  boy  appears  with  a  narghileh,  which 
he  places  beside  us,  offering  the  amber  mouth-piece  to  our  sub- 
missive lips.  The  smoke  we  inhale  has  au  odor  of  roses  ;  and 
as  the  pipe  bubbles  with  our  breathing,  we  feel  that  the  dews 
of  sweat  gather  heavily  upon  us.  The  attendant  now  re- 
appears, kneels  beside  us,  and  gently  kneads  us  with  dexterous 
hands.  Although  no  anatomist,  he  knows  every  muscle  and 
sinew  whose  suppleness  gives  case  to  the  body,  and  so  moulds 
and  manipulates  them  that  we  lose  the  rigidity  of  our  mechan- 
ism, and  become  plastic  in  his  hands.  He  turns  us  upon  our 
face,  repeats  the  same  process  upon  the  back,  and  leaves  us  a 
little  longer  to  lie  there  passively,  glistening  in  our  own  dew. 
We  are  aroused  from  a  reverie  about  nothing  by  a  dark 
brown  shape,  who  replaces  the  clogs,  puts  his  arm  around  our 
waist  and  leads  us  into  an  inner  hall,  with  a  steaming  tank  in 
the  centre.  Here  he  slijis  us  off  the  brink,  and  we  collapse 
over  head  and  ears  in  the  fiery  fluid.  Once — twice — we  dip 
into  tlio  delicious  heat,  and  then  are  led  into  a  marble  alcove, 
and  seated  flat  upon  the  floor.  The  attendant  stands  behind 
us,  and  we  now  perceive  that  his  hands  are  encased  in  dark 
hair-gloves.  He  pounces  upon  an  arm,  which  he  rubs  until, 
like  a  serpent,  we  slough  the  worn-out  skin,  and  resume  our 
infantile  smoothness  and  fairness.  No  man  can  be  called  cleau 
until  he  has  bathed  in  the  East.  Let  him  walk  directly  from 
his  accustomed  bath  and  self-friction  with  towels,  to  the  Ham- 
mam  el-Khyateen,  and  the  attendant  will  exclaim,  as  he  shakef 


THE     BATir.  158 

out  his  hair-glovcs :  "  O  Frank  1  it  is  a  lonj^  time  since  yo« 
have  bathed.*'  The  otlicr  arm  follows,  the  back,  the  breast, 
the  legs,  until  the  work  Is  complete,  and  we  know  precisely  how 
a  horse  feels  after  he  haj,  been  curried. 

Now  the  attendant  turns  two  cocks  at  the  back  of  the 
nlcove,  and  holding  a  basin  alternately  under  the  cold  and  hot 
Btrearas,  floods  us  at  first  with  a  fiery  dash,  that  sends  a  deli- 
cious warm  shiver  through  every  nerve  ;  then,  with  milder 
applications,  lessening  the  temperature  of  the  water  by  semi- 
tones, until,  from  the  highest  key  of  heat  which  we  can  bear, 
we  glide  rapturously  down  the  gamut  uutil  we  reach  the 
lowest  bass  of  coolness.  The  skin  has  by  this  time  attained  an 
exquisite  sensibility,  and  answers  to  these  changes  of  tempera- 
tvire  with  thrills  of  the  purest  physical  j)leasure.  In  fact,  the 
whole  frame  seems  purged  of  its  earthy  nature  and  trans 
formed  into  something  of  a  finer  and  more  delicate  texture 

After  a  pause,  the  attendant  makes  his  appearance  with  a 
large  wooden  bowl,  a  piece  of  soap,  and  a  bunch  of  palm- 
fibres.  He  squats  down  beside  the  bowl,  and  speedily  creates 
a  mass  of  snowy  lather,  which  grows  up  to  a  pyramid  and 
topples  over  the  edge.  Seizing  us  by  the  crown-tuft  of  hair 
upon  our  shaven  head,  he  plants  the  foamy  bunch  of  fibres  full 
in  our  face.  The  world  vanishes  ;  sight,  hearing,  smell,  taste 
(unless  we  open  our  mouth),  and  l)reathing,  are  cut  off;  we 
have  become  nebulous.  Altliough  our  eyes  are  shut,  we  seen 
to  see  a  blank  whiteness ;  and,  feeling  nothing  but  a  soft 
flceciness,  we  doubt  whether  we  be  not  the  Olympian  cloud 
?\-hich  visited  lo.  But  the  cloud  clears  away  before  strangula- 
tion begins,  and   the  velvety  mass  descends  upon  the  body 

Twice  we  are  thus  "slusho<.l"  from  head  to  foot,  and  made 

7* 


154  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

more  slippery  than  the  anointed  wrestlers  of  the  Greek  games 
Then  the  basin  comes  again  into  play,  and  we  glide  once  more 
musically  through  the  scale  of  temperature. 

The  brown  sculptor  has  now  nearly  completed  his  task.  The 
figure  of  clay  which  entered  the  bath  is  transformed  into 
polished  marble.  He  turns  the  body  from  side  to  side,  and 
lifts  the  limbs  to  see  whether  the  workmanship  is  adequate  to 
his  conception.  His  satisfied  gaze  proclaims  his  success.  A 
skilful  bath-attendant  has  a  certain  aesthetic  pleasure  in  his 
occupation.  The  bodies  he  polishes  become  to  some  extent 
his  own  workmanship,  and  he  feels  responsible  for  their 
symmetry  or  deformity.  He  experiences  a  degree  of  triumph 
in  contemplating  a  beautiful  form,  which  has  grown  more  airily 
light  and  beautiful  under  his  hands.  He  is  a  great  connoisseur 
of  bodies,  and  could  pick  you  out  the  finest  specimens  with  as 
ready  an  eye  as  an  artist. 

I  envy  those  old  Greek  bathers,  into  whose  hands  were 
delivered  Pericles,  and  Alcibiades,  and  the  perfect  models  of 
Phidias.  They  had  daily  before  their  eyes  the  highest  types 
of  Beauty  which  the  world  has  ever  produced  ;  for  of  all 
things  that  are  beautiful,  the  human  body  is  the  crown.  Xow, 
since  the  delusion  of  artists  has  been  overthrown,  and  we  know 
that  Grecian  Art  is  but  the  simple  reflex  of  Nature — that  the 
old  masterpieces  of  sculpture  were  no  miraculous  embodiments 
of  a  lean  ideal,  but  copies  of  living  forms — we  must  admit 
that  in  no  other  age  of  the  world  iias  the  physical  Man  been 
BO  perfectly  developed.  The  nearest  approach  I  have  ever 
Been  to  the  symmetry  of  ancient  sculpture  was  among  the 
Arab  tribes  of  Ethiopia.  Our  Saxon  rac6  can  supply  th< 
athlete,  but  not  the  ApoUo. 


CIRCASSIAN     BEAUTY  15") 

Oriental  life  is  too  full  of  repose,  and  tlio  Ottoman  rac  has 
become  too  (legcucnite  through  iudulj^euce,  to  exhibit  many 
striking  specimens  of  pliysical  beauty.  The  face  is  ger.erally 
fine,  but  the  body  is  apt  to  be  lank,  and  with  imperfect  muscu- 
lar development.  The  best  forms  I  saw  in  the  baths  were 
those  of  laborers,  who,  with  a  good  deal  of  rugged  strength, 
sliowcd  sojue  grace  and  harmony  of  proportion.  It  may  be 
received  as  a  general  rule,  that  the  pliysical  development  of 
the  European  is  superior  to  that  of  the  Oriental,  with  the 
exception  of  the  Circassians  and  Georgians,  whose  beauty  well 
entitles  them  to  the  distinction  of  giving  their  name  to  our 
race. 

So  far  as  female  beauty  is  concerned,  the  Circassian  women 
have  no  superiors.  They  have  preserved  in  their  mountain 
home  the  purity  of  the  Grecian  models,  and  still  display  the 
perfect  physical  loveliness,  whose  type  has  descended  to  us  in 
the  Venus  de  Medici.  The  Frank  who  is  addicted  to  wander- 
ing about  the  streets  of  Oriental  cities  can  hardly  fail  to  be 
favored  with  a  sight  of  the  faces  of  these  beauties.  More  than 
once  it  has  happened  to  me,  in  meeting  a  veiled  lady,  sailing 
along  in  her  balloon-like  feridjee,  that  she  has  allowed  the  veil 
to  drop  by  a  skilful  accident,  as  she  passed,  and  has  startled 
me  with  the  vision  of  her  beauty,  recalling  the  line  of  the  Per- 
sian poet:  "Astonishment!  is  this  the  dawn  of  the  glorious 
sun,  or  is  it  the  full  moon  1"  The  Circassian  face  is  a  pure 
oval  ;  the  forehead  is  low  and  fair,  "  an  excellent  thing  in 
woman,"  and  the  skin  of  an  ivory  whiteness,  except  the  faint 
pink  of  the  cheeks  and  the  ripe,  roseate  stain  of  the  lips.  The 
hair  is  dark,  glossy,  and  luxuriant,  exquisitely  outlined  on  the 
temples  ;   the  eyebrows  slightly  arched,  and  drawn   with   a 


156  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

delicate  pencil  ;  while  lashes  like  "rays  of  darkness"  shade 
the  large,  dark,  humid  orbs  below  them.  The  alabaster  of  the 
face^  so  pure  as  scarcely  to  show  the  blue  branching  of  the 
veins  on  the  temples,  is  lighted  by  those  superb  eyes — 

"  Shining  eyes,  like  antique  jewels  set  in  Parian  statue-stone," 

— whose  wells  are  so  dark  and  deep,  that  you  are  cheated  into 
the  belief  that  a  glorious  soul  looks  out  of  them. 

Once,  by  an  unforeseen  chance,  I  beheld  the  Circassian  form^ 
in  its  most  perfect  development.  I  was  on  board  an  Austrian 
steamer  in  the  harbor  of  Smyrna,  when  the  harem  of  a  Turk- 
ish pasha  came  out  in  a  boat  to  embark  for  Alexandria.  The 
sea  was  rather  rough,  and  nearly  all  the  officers  of  the  steamer 
were  ashore.  There  were  six  veiled  and  swaddled  women,  with 
a  black  eunuch  as  guard,  in  the  boat,  which  lay  tossing  for  some 
time  at  the  foot  of  the  gangway  ladder,  before  the  frightened 
passengers  could  summon  courage  to  step  out.  At  last  th« 
youngest  of  them — a  Circassian  girl  of  not  more  than  fifteen 
or  sixteen  years  of  age — ventured  upon  the  ladder,  clasping  the 
liand-rail  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  she  held  together 
the  folds  of  her  cumbrous  feridjee.  I  was  standing  in  the 
gangway,  watching  her,  when  a  slight  lurch  of  the  steamer 
caused  her  to  loose  her  hold  of  the  garment,  which,  fastened 
at  the  neck,  was  blown  back  from  her  shoulders,  leaving  her 
body  screened  but  by  a  single  robe  of  light,  gauzy  silk. 
Through  this,  the  marble  whiteness  of  her  skin,  the  roundness, 
the  glorious  symmetry  of  her  form,  flashed  upon  me,  as  a  vision 
of  Aphrodite,  seen 

"Through  leagues  of  shimmering  water,  like  a  star." 


TIIK     HUMAN     liODV.  15"l 

It  was  but  a  momentary  glimpse  ;  yet  that  moment  convinced 
me  that  forms  of  Phidian  perfection  arc  still  nurtured  in  the 
vales  of  Caucasus. 

The  necessary  disguise  of  dress  hides  from  us  much  of  the 
beauty  and  dignity  of  Humanity.  I  have  seen  men  who 
appeared  heroic  in  the  freedom  of  nakedness,  shrink  almost  into . 
absolute  vulgarity,  when  clothed.  The  soul  not  only  sits  at 
the  windows  of  the  eyes,  and  hangs  upon  the  gateway  of  the 
lips  ;  she  speaks  as  well  in  the  intricate,  yet  harmonious  lines 
of  the  body,  and  the  ever-varying  play  of  the  limbs.  Look  at 
the  torso  of  Ilioncus,  the  son  of  Niobc,  and  see  what  an  agony 
of  terror  and  supplication  cries  out  from  that  headless  and 
limbless  trunk  I  Decapitate  Laocoon,  and  his  knotted  muscles 
will  still  express  the  same  dreadful  suffering  and  resistance. 
None  knew  this  better  tlian  the  ancient  sculptors  ;  and  henco 
it  was  that  we  find  many  of  their  statues  of  distinguished  men 
wholly  or  partly  undraped.  Such  a  view  of  Art  would  be 
considered  transcendental  now-a-days,  when  our  dress,  our  cos- 
tumes, and  our  modes  of  speech  either  ignore  the  existence  of 
our  bodies,  or  treat  them  with  little  of  that  reverence  whicli  is 
their  due. 

But,  while  we  have  been  thinking  these  thoughts,  the 
attendant  has  been  waiting  to  give  us  a  final  plunge  into  the 
seething  tank.  Again  we  slide  down  to  the  eyes  in  the  fluid 
heat,  which  wraps  us  closely  about  until  we  tingle  with  exqui- 
site hot  shiverings.  Now  comes  the  graceful  boy,  with  clean, 
eool,  lavendered  napkins,  which  ho  folds  around  our  waist  and 
ivraps  softly  about  the  head.  The  pattens  are  put  upon  oui 
feet,  and  the  brown  arm  steadies  us  gently  through  the  swca^ 
tng-room  and  ante-chamber  into  the  outer  hall,  where  we  monni 


158  THE     LANDS     OF    mS,     SARACEN. 

to  our  couch.  We  sink  gently  upou  the  cool  liuen,  and  the 
boy  covers  us  with  a  perfumed  sheet.  Then,  kneeling  beside 
the  couch,  he  presses  the  folds  of  the  sheet  around  us,  that  it 
may  absorb  the  lingering  moisture  and  the  limpid  perspiration 
r,hed  by  the  departing  heat.  As  fast  as  the  linen  becomes 
damp,  he  replaces  it  with  fresh,  pressing  the  folds  about  us  as 
tenderly  as  a  mother  arranges  the  drapery  of  her  sleeping 
babe  ;  for  we,  though  of  the  stature  of  a  man,  are  now  infan- 
tile in  our  helpless  happiness.  Then  he  takes  our  passive 
hand  and  warms  its  palm  by  the  soft  friction  of  his  own  ; 
after  which,  moving  to  the  end  of  the  couch,  he  lifts  our 
feet  upon  his  lap,  and  repeats  the  friction  upon  their  soles, 
until  the  blood  comes  back  to  the  surface  of  the  body  with  a 
misty  glow,  like  that  which  steeps  the  clouds  of  a  summeJ 
afternoon. 

We  have  but  one  more  process  to  undergo,  and  the  attend- 
ant already  stands  at  the  head  of  our  couch.  This  is  the 
course  of  passive  gymnastics,  which  excites  so  much  alarm  and 
resistance  in  the  ignorant  Franks.  It  is  only  resistance  that 
is  dangerous,  completely  neutralizing  the  enjoyment  of  the  pro- 
cess. Give  yourself  with  a  blind  submission  into  the  arms  of 
the  brown  Fate,  and  he  will  lead  you  to  new  chambers  of 
delight.  He  lifts  us  to  a  sitting  posture,  places  himself  behind 
us,  and  folds  his  arms  around  our  body,  alternately  tightening 
and  relaxing  his  clasp,  as  if  to  test  the  elasticity  of  the  ribs. 
Tlien  seizing  one  arm,  he  draws  it  across  tlie  opposite  shoulder, 
until  the  joint  cracks  like  a  percussion-cap.  The  shoulder- 
blades,  the  elbows,  the  wrists,  and  the  finger-joints  are  all  made 
to  fire  off  their  muffled  volleys  ;  and  then,  placing  one  knee 
between  our  shoulders,  and  clasping  bo'.h  hands  upon  our  fore 


THE     BATH.  159 

bead,  be  draws  our  head  back  until  we  feel  a  great  snap  of  tlit 
vertebral  cohuuu.  Now  he  descends  to  the  hii>joints,  knees, 
ankles,  and  feet,  forcing  each  and  all  to  discharge  a  salvo  di 
joie.  The  slight  languor  left  from  the  bath  is  gone,  and  an 
airy,  delicate  exlnlaration,  befitting  the  winged  Mercury,  takes 
its  place. 

The  boy,  kneeling,  presents  us  with  ajinjnn  of  foamy  coffee, 
followed  by  a  glass  of  sherbet  cooled  with  the  snows  of  Le])a- 
non.  He  presently  returns  with  a  narghileh,  which  we  smoke 
by  the  eflTortless  inhalation  of  the  lungs.  Tlius  we  lie  in  per- 
fect repose,  soothed  by  the  fragrant  weed,  and  idly  watching 
the  silent  Orientals,  who  are  undressing  for  the  bath  or  reposing 
like  ourselves.  Through  the  arched  entrance,  we  see  a  picture 
of  the  bazaars  :  a  shadowy  painting  of  merchants  seated  amid 
their  silks  and  spices,  dotted  here  and  there  with  golden  drops 
and  splashes  of  sunshine,  which  have  trickled  through  the  roof. 
The  scene  paints  itself  upon  our  eyes,  yet  wakes  no  slightest 
stir  of  thought.  The  brain  is  a  becalmed  sea,  without  a  ripple 
ou  its  shores.  Mind  and  body  are  drowned  in  delicious  rest  ; 
and  we  no  longer  remember  what  we  are.  Wc  only  know  that 
there  is  an  Existence  somewhere  in  the  air,  and  that  wherever 
it  is,  and  whatever  it  may  be,  it  is  happy. 

More  and  more  dim  grows  the  picture.  The  colors  fade  and 
blend  into  each  other,  and  finally  merge  into  a  bed  of  rosy 
clouds,  flooded  with  the  radiance  of  some  unseen  sun.  Oentlier 
than  "tired  eyelids  upon  tired  eyes,"  sleep  lies  upon  our 
senses  :  a  half-conscious  sleep,  wherein  we  know  that  we  behold 
light  and  inhale  fragrance.  As  gently,  the  clouds  dissipate 
into  air,  and  we  are  born  again  into  the  world.  The  Bath  ia 
at  an  end.    Wc  arise  and  put  on  our  garments,  and  walk  fortt 


160  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

into  the  suuny  streets  of  Damascus.  But  as  we  go  homewarda, 
we  involuntarily  look  down  to  see  whether  we  are  really  tread- 
ing upon  the  earth,  wondering,  perhaps,  that  we  should  be 
content  to  do  so,  when  it  wonld  be  so  easy  to  soar  above  the 
house-tops. 


DEPAHTDBE     FROM     DAMASCUS.  J  t">  I 


CHAPTER  XII. 

BAALBEC     AND     I.  EBANON. 

Drparlure  from  Dam:iscus— The  Fountains  of  tlie  Pharpar — Pass  of  the  Anti-LcbaiiQ{>- 
AJventure  with  the  Druses — The  Range  of  Lebanon — Tlie  Demon  of  Hasheoal 
departs — Impressions  of  Baalbcc — Tlie  Temple  of  the  Sun— Titanic  Masonry — The 
Ruined  Mosque — Camp  on  Lebanon — Rascality  of  the  Guide — The  Summit  of  Lebanon 
— The  Sacred  Cedars — The  Christians  of  Lebanon — An  Afternoou  in  Eden — Rugged 
Travel— We  Reach  the  Coast — Return  to  Beyrout. 

"  Peor  and  Baalim 
Forsake  their  temples  dim." 

MiLTOJJ. 

"  The  cedars  wave  on  Lebanon, 
But  Judah's  statelier  maids  are  gone." 

Btrox. 

Beykout,  Thursday,  May  27,  ISSl?. 

After  a  stay  of  eight  days  in  Damascus,  we  called  our  meii. 
Dervish  and  Mustapha,  again  into  requisition,  loaded  our 
enthusiastic  mules,  and  mounted  our  despairing  horses.  There 
were  two  other  parties  on  the  way  to  Baalbcc — an  Euglish 
gentleman  and  lady,  and  a  solitary  Englishman,  so  that  our 
united  forces  made  an  imposing  caravan.  There  is  always  a 
custom-house  examination,  not  on  entering,  but  on  issuing  from 
an  Oriental  city,  but  travellers  can  avoid  it  by  procuring  the 
company  of  a  Consular  Janissary  as  far  as  tlie  gate.  Mr 
Wood,  the  British  Consul,  lent  us  one  of  his  otlicers  for  the 


I  (12  THE    LANDS    OF    THE     SARACEN". 

occasion,  whom  we  found  waiting,  outside  of  the  wall,  to  receive 
his  private  fee  for  the  service.  We  mounted  the  long,  bari-cn 
hill  west  of  the  plain,  and  at  the  summit,  ner.r  the  tomb  of  u 
Moslem  shekh,  turned  to  take  a  last  long  lock  at  the  bowery 
plain,  and  the  minarets  of  the  city,  glittering  through  the  blue 
morning  vapor. 

A  few  paces  further  on  the  rocky  road,  a  different  scene 
presented  itself  to  us.  There  lay,  to  the  westward,  a  long 
stretch  of  naked  yellow  mountains,  basking  in  the  hot  glare  oi 
the  sun,  and  through  tlie  centre,  deep  down  in  the  heart  of  the 
arid  landscape,  a  winding  line  of  living  green  showed  the  course 
of  the  Barrada.  We  followed  the  river,  until  the  path  reached 
an  impassable  gorge,  which  occasioned  a  detour  of  two  or 
three  hours.  We  then  descended  to  the  bed  of  the  dell,  where 
the  vegetation,  owing  to  the  radiated  heat  from  the  mountains 
and  the  fertilizing  stimulus  of  the  water  below,  was  even  richer 
than  on  the  plain  of  Damascus.  The  trees  were  plethoric  with 
an  overplus  of  life.  The  boughs  of  the  mulberries  were 
weighed  down  mth  the  burden  of  the  leaves  ;  pomegranates 
were  in  a  violent  eruption  of  blossoms  ;  and  the  foliage  of  the 
fig  and  poplar  was  of  so  deep  a  hue  that  it  shone  black  in  the 
Bun. 

Passing  through  a  gateway  of  rock,  so  narrow  that  we  were 
often  obliged  to  ride  in  the  bed  of  the  stream,  we  reached  a 
little  meadow,  beyond  which  was  a  small  hamlet,  almost  hidden 
Ui  tlie  leaves.  Here  the  mountains  again  approached  each 
other,  and  from  the  side  of  that  on  the  right  hand,  the  main 
body  of  the  Barrada,  or  Puarpar,  gushed  forth  in  one  full 
etream.  The  fountain  is  nearly  double  the  volume  of  that  of 
the  Jordan  at  Banias,  and  much  more  beautiful.     The  founda 


THE  FOUNTAINS  OF  THE  PnARPAR.  163 

tions  of  an  ancient  building,  probably  a  temple,  overhang  it, 
and  tall  poplars  and  sycamores  cover  it  with  impenetrable 
shade.  From  the  low  aperture,  where  it  bursts  into  the  light, 
its  waters,  white  with  foam,  bound  away  flashing  in  the  chance 
rays  of  sunshine,  until  they  are  lost  to  sight  in  the  dense,  dark 
foliage.  We  sat  an  hour  on  the  ruined  walls,  listening  to  the 
roar  and  rush  of  the  flood,  and  enjoying  the  shade  of  the  wal- 
nuts and  sycamores.  Soon  after  leaving,  our  path  crossed  a 
small  stream,  which  comes  down  to  the  Barrada  from  the  upper 
valleys  of  the  Anti-Lebanon,  and  entered  a  wild  pass,  faced 
with  cliCfs  of  perpendicular  rock.  An  old  bridge,  of  one  arch, 
spanned  the  chasm,  out  of  which  we  climbed  to  a  tract  of  high 
meadow  laud.  In  the  pass  there  were  some  fragments  of 
ancient  columns,  traces  of  an  aqueduct,  and  inscriptions  on  the 
rocks,  among  which  Mr.  H.  found  the  name  of  Antoninus 
The  place  is  not  mentioned  in  any  book  of  travel  I  have  seen,  as 
it  is  not  on  the  usual  road  from  Damascus  to  Baalbec. 

As  we  were  emerging  from  the  pass,  we  saw  a  company  of 
twelve  armed  men  seated  in  the  grass,  near  the  roadside. 
They  were  wild-looking  characters,  and  eyed  us  somewhat 
sharply  as  we  passed.  "We  greeted  them  with  the  usual 
"salaam  aleikoom  1"  which  they  did  not  return.  The  same 
evening,  as  we  encamped  at  the  village  of  Zcbdeni,  about  three 
hours  further  up  the  valley,  we  were  startled  by  a  great  noise 
and  outcry,  with  the  firing  of  pistols.  It  happened,  as  we 
learned  on  inquiring  the  cause  of  all  this  confusion,  that  the 
men  we  saw  in  the  pass  were  rebel  Druses,  who  were  then 
lying  in  wait  for  the  Shekh  of  Zebdeni,  whom,  with  his  son, 
they  had  taken  captive  soou  after  we  passed.  The  news  had 
by  some  means  b  •<  n  conveyed  to  the  village,  and  a  compary 


164  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SAKACEN. 

of  about  two  hundred  persons  was  then  marching  out  to  tJie 
rescue.  The  noise  they  made  was  probably  to  give  tiie  Druses 
intimation  of  their  coming,  and  thus  tvoid  a  fight.  I  do  not 
believe  that  any  of  the  mountaineers  of  Lebanon  would  will- 
ingly take  part  against  the  Druses,  who,  in  fact,  are  nol 
fighting  so  much  against  the  institution  of  the  conscription 
law,  as  its  abuse.  The  law  ordains  that  the  conscript  shall 
serve  for  five  years  ;  but  since  its  establishment,  as  I  have 
been  informed,  there  has  not  been  a  single  instance  of  dis- 
charge. It  amounts,  therefore,  to  lifelong  servitude,  and  there 
is  little  wonder  that  these  independent  sons  of  the  mountains, 
as  well  as  the  tribes  inhabiting  the  Syrian  Desert,  should  rebel 
rather  than  submit. 

The  next  day,  we  crossed  a  pass  in  the  Anti-Lebanon  beyond 
Zebdeni,  descended  a  beautiful  valley  on  the  western  side, 
under  a  ridge  which  was  still  dotted  with  patches  of  snow, 
and  after  travelling  for  some  hours  over  a  wide,  barren  height, 
the  last  of  the  range,  saw  below  us  the  plain  of  Baalbec.  The 
grand  ridge  of  Lebanon  opposite,  crowned  with  glittering 
fields  of  snow,  shone  out  clearly  through  the  pure  air,  and  the 
hoary  head  of  Ilermon,  far  in  the  south,  lost  something  of  ita 
grandeur  by  the  comparison.  Though  there  is  a  "  divide,"  or 
watershed,  between  Husbeiya,  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Hermon, 
and  Baalbec,  whose  springs  join  the  Orontes,  which  flows 
northward  to  Antioch,  the  great  natural  separation  of  the  two 
chains  continues  unbroken  to  the  Gulf  of  Akaba,  in  the  Red 
Sea.  A  little  beyond  Baalbec,  the  Anti-Lebanon  terminates, 
sinking  into  the  Syrian  plain,  while  the  Lebanon,  though  its 
name  and  general  features  are  lost,  about  twenty  miles  furthef 
to   the  north  is  succeeded  by  other  ranges,  which,  thougl: 


THE  DEMON  OF  HASHEESn  DEPARTS  165 

broken  at  intervals,  form  a  regular  scries,  connectinpj  with  the 
Taurus,  in  Asia  Minor. 

On  leaving  Damascus,  the  Demon  of  llasliecsh  siill  main- 
taiued  a  i)artial  control  over  me.  I  was  weak  in  body  and  at 
tunes  confused  in  my  perceptions,  wandering  away  from  the 
Bcenes  about  me  to  some  unknown  sphere  beyond  the  moon. 
But  the  healing  balm  of  my  sleep  at  Zebdeni,  and  the  purity 
of  the  morning  air  among  the  mountains,  completed  my  cure. 
As  I  rode  along  the  valley,  with  the  towering,  snow-sprinkled 
ridge  of  the  Anti-Lebanon  on  ray  right,  a  cloudless  heaven 
above  my  head,  and  meads  enamelled  with  the  asphodel  and 
scarlet  anemone  stretching  before  me,  I  felt  that  the  last 
shadow  had  rolled  away  from  my  brain.  My  mind  was  now  as 
clear  as  that  sky — my  heart  as  free  and  joyful  as  the  elastic 
morning  air.  The  sun  never  shone  so  brightly  to  my  eyes  ; 
the  fair  forms  of  Nature  were  never  penetrated  with  so  perfect 
a  spirit  of  beauty.  I  was  again  master  of  myself,  and  the 
world  glowed  as  if  new-created  in  the  light  of  my  joy  and  gra- 
titude. I  thanked  God,  who  had  led  me  out  of  a  darkness 
more  terrible  than  that  of  the  Yalley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
and  while  my  feet  strayed  among  the  flowery  meadows  of  Leba* 
non,  my  heart  walked  on  the  Delectable  Ilills  of  His  Mercy. 

By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  we  reached  Baalbec.  The 
distant  view  of  the  temple,  on  descending  the  last  slope  of  the 
Anti-Lebanon,  is  not  calculated  to  raise  one's  expectations. 
On  the  green  plain  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  you  see  a  large 
square  platform  of  masonry,  upon  which  stand  si.\  columns,  the 
body  of  the  temple,  and  a  quantity  of  ruined  walls.  As  a 
feature  in  the  landscape,  it  has  a  fine  effect,  but  you  find  your- 
self pronouncing  the  speedy  judgment,  that  "Baalbec,  withoul 


(66  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SA-UCEIST. 

Lebanon,  would  be  rather  a  poor  show."  Having  come  tc 
this  conclusion,  you  ride  down  the  hill  with  comfortable  feel 
ings  of  indiiference.  There  are  a  number  of  quarries  on  the 
left  hand  ;  you  glance  at  them  with  an  expression  which  merely 
says  :  "Ah  !  I  suppose  they  got  the  stones  here,"  and  so  yoa 
saunter  on,  cross  a  little  stream  that  flows  down  from  the 
modern  village,  pass  a  mill,  return  the  stare  of  the  quaint 
Arab  miller  who  comes  to  the  door  to  see  you,  and  your  horse 
is  climbing  a  difficult  path  among  the  broken  columns  and 
friezes,  l)cfore  you  think  it  worth  while  to  lift  your  eyes  to  the 
j>ile  above  you.  Now  re-assert  your  judgment,  if  you  dare  1 
This  is  Baalbec  :  what  have  you  to  say  ?  Nothing  ;  but  you 
amazedly  measure  the  torsos  of  great  columns  which  lie  piled 
across  one  another  in  magnificent  wreck  ;  vast  pieces  which 
have  dropped  from  the  entablature,  beautiful  Corinthian  capi- 
tals, bereft  of  the  last  graceful  curves  of  their  acanthus  leaves, 
and  blocks  whose  edges  are  so  worn  away  that  they  resemble 
enormous  natural  boulders  left  by  the  Deluge,  till  at  last  you 
look  up  to  the  six  glorious  pillars,  towering  nigh  a  hundred  feet 
above  your  head,  and  there  is  a  sensation  in  your  brain  which 
would  be  a  shout,  if  you  could  give  it  utterance,  of  faultless 
symmetry  and  majesty,  such  as  no  conception  of  yours  and  no 
other  creation  of  art,  can  surpass. 

I  know  of  nothing  so  beautiful  in  all  remains  of  ancient  Art 
as  these  six  columns,  except  the  colonnade  of  the  Memnonium, 
at  Thebes,  which  is  of  much  smaller  proportions.  From  every 
position,  and  with  all  lights  of  the  day  or  night,  they  art 
equally  perfect,  and  carry  your  eyes  continually  away  from  the 
peristyle  of  the  smaller  temple,  which  is  better  preserved,  and 
from  the  exquisite  architecture  of  the  outer  courts  and  pavi 


THE     TEMPLES     OF     BAALBEC.  1<57 

lions.  The  two  temples  of  Baalbec  stand  on  an  artiGcial  plat- 
form of  masonry,  a  thousand  feet  in  length,  and  from  Ofteen  to 
thirty  feet  (according  to  the  depression  of  the  soil)  in  hciglit. 
The  larger  one,  which  is  supposed  to  have  been  a  Pantheon, 
occupies  the  whole  length  of  this  platform.  The  entrance  wa? 
at  the  north,  by  a  grand  flight  of  steps,  now  broken  a.'Ka.j, 
between  two  lofty  and  elegant  pavilions  which  are  still  nearly 
entire.  Then  followed  a  spacious  hexagonal  court,  and  three 
grand  halls,  parts  of  which,  with  niches  for  statues,  adorned 
with  cornices  and  pediments  of  elaborate  design,  still  remain 
entire  to  the  roof  Tliis  magnificent  series  of  chambers  was 
terminated  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the  platform  by  the 
main  temple,  which  had  originally  twenty  columns  on  a  side, 
similar  to  the  six  now  standing. 

The  Temple  of  the  Sun  stands  on  a  smaller  and  lower  plat- 
form, which  appears  to  have  been  subsequently  added  to  the 
greater  one.  The  colla,  or  body  of  the  tem()le,  is  com))lete 
except  the  roof,  and  of  the  colonnade  surrounding  it,  nearly 
one-half  of  its  pillars  are  still  standing,  upholding  the  frieze, 
entablature,  and  cornice,  which  altogether  form  probably  the 
most  ornate  specimen  of  the  Corinthian  order  of  architecture 
now  extant.  Only  four  pillars  of  the  superb  portico  remain, 
and  the  Saracens  have  nearly  ruined  these  by  building  a  sort 
of  watch-tower  upon  the  architrave.  The  same  unscrupulous 
race  completely  shut  up  the  portal  of  the  temple  with  a  blank 
wall,  formed  of  the  fragments  they  had  hurled  down,  and  one 
is  obliged  to  creep  through  a  narrow  hole  in  order  to  reach 
the  interior.  Here  the  original  doorway  faces  you — and  I 
know  not  how  to  describe  the  wonderful  design  of  its  elaborate 
Bciilptiire<i  mouldings  and  cornices.     The  genius  of  Greek  ar* 


168  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Beems  to  have  exhausted  itself  in  inventing  ornaments,  which, 
while  they  should  heighten  the  gorgeous  effect  of  the  work^ 
must  yet  harmonize  with  the  grand  design  of  the  temple.  The 
enormous  keystone  over  the  entrance  has  slipped  down,  no 
doubt  from  the  shock  of  an  earthquake,  and  hangs  within  six 
inches  of  the  bottom  of  the  two  blocks  which  uphold  it  on 
either  side.  When  it  falls,  the  whole  entablature  of  the  portal 
will  be  destroyed.  On  its  lower  side  is  an  eagle  with  outspread 
wings,  and  on  the  side-stones  a  genius  with  garlands  of  flowers, 
exquisitely  sculptured  in  bas  relief.  Hidden  among  the  wreaths 
of  vines  which  adorn  the  jambs  are  the  laughing  heads  of 
fauns.  This  portal  was  a  continual  study  to  me,  every  visit 
revealing  new  refinements  of  ornament,  which  I  had  not  before 
observed.  The  interior  of  the  temple,  with  its  rich  Corinthian 
pilasters,  its  niches  for  statues,  surmounted  by  pediments  ot 
elegant  design,  and  its  elaborate  cornice,  needs  little  aid  of  the 
imagination  to  restore  it  to  its  original  perfection.  Like  that 
of  Dendera,  in  Egypt,  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  leaves  upon  the 
mind  an  impression  of  completeness  which  makes  you  forget 
far  grander  remains. 

But  the  most  wonderful  thing  at  Baalbec  is  the  foundation 
platform  upon  which  the  temples  stand.  Even  the  colossal 
fabrics  of  Ancient  Egypt  dwindle  before  this  superhuman 
masonry.  The  platform  itself,  1,000  feet  long,  and  averaging 
twenty  feet  in  height,  suggests  a  vast  mass  of  stones,  but  when 
you  come  to  examine  the  single  blocks  of  which  it  is  composed, 
you  are  crushed  with  their  incredible  bulk.  On  the  western 
Bide  is  a  row  of  eleven  foundation  stones,  each  of  which  ia 
thirty-two  feet  in  length,  twelve  in  height,  and  ten  in  thickness, 
forming  a  wall  three  hundred  and  fifty-two  feet  long  I     But 


TITANIC     MASONRY.  160 

while  you  are  walking  on,  thinking  oi  the  art  \Ynicn  cut  and 
raised  these  enoniious  blocks,  you  turn  tlie  southern  corner  and 
come  upon  Ihrte,  stones,  the  united  length  of  whicli  is  ont  hnrir 
dreil  and  eig/ily-seveii  feel — two  of  them  being  sixty-two  and 
the  other  sixty-three  feet  in  length  1  There  they  are,  cut  with 
faultless  exactness,  and  so  smoothly  joined  to  each  other,  that 
you  cannot  force  a  cambric  needle  into  the  crevice.  There  is  one 
joint  so  perfect  that  it  can  only  be  discerned  by  the  minutest 
search  ;  it  is  not  even  so  perceptible  as  the  junction  of  two 
pieces  of  paper  which  have  been  pasted  together.  In  the  quarry, 
there  still  lies  a  finislied  block,  ready  for  transportation,  which 
is  sixty-seven  feet  in  length.  Tlie  weight  of  one  of  these  masses 
has  been  reckoned  at  near  9,000  tons,  yet  they  do  not  form  the 
base  of  the  foundation,  but  are  raised  upon  other  courses,  Cfteea 
feet  from  the  ground.  It  is  considered  by  some  antiquarians 
that  they  are  of  a  date  greatly  anterior  to  that  of  the  temples, 
and  were  intended  as  the  basement  of  a  different  ediflce. 

In  the  village  of  Baalbec  there  is  a  small  circular  Corinthian 
temple  of  very  elegant  design.  It  is  not  more  than  thirty  feet 
in  diameter,  and  may  have  been  intended  as  a  tomb.  A  spa- 
cious mosque,  now  roofless  and  deserted,  was  constructed  almost 
entirely  out  of  the  remains  of  the  temples.  Adjoining  the 
court-yard  and  fountain  are  five  rows  of  ancient  pillars,  forty 
(the  sacred  number)  in  all,  supporting  light  Saracenic  arches. 
Some  of  them  are  marble,  with  Corinthian  capitals,  and  eighteen 
are  single  shafts  of  red  Egyptian  granite.  Beside  the  fountain 
lies  a  email  broken  pillar  of  porphyry,  of  a  dark  violet  hue, 
and  of  so  Cue  a  grain  that  the  stone  has  the  soft  rich  lustre 
of  velvet.  This  fragment  is  the  only  thing  I  would  carry  away 
if  I  had  the  power. 

8 


170  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

After  a  day's  sojourn,  we  left  Baalbec  at  noon,  and  took  thf 
road  for  the  Cedars,  which  lie  on  the  other  side  of  Lebanon,  in 
the  direction  of  Tripoli.  Our  English  fellow-travellers  chose 
the  direct  road  to  Bcyrout.  We  crossed  the  plain  in  three 
hours,  to  the  village  of  Dayr  el-Ahmar,  and  then  commenced 
ascending  the  lowest  slopes  of  the  great  range,  whose  topmost 
ridge,  a  dazzling  parapet  of  snow,  rose  high  above  us.  For 
several  hours,  our  path  led  up  and  down  stony  ridges,  covered 
with  thickets  of  oak  and  holly,  and  with  wild  cherry,  pear,  and 
olive-trees.  Just  as  the  sun  threw  the  shadows  of  the  highest 
Lebanon  over  us,  we  came  upon  a  narrow,  rocky  glen  at  his 
very  base.  Streams  that  still  kept  the  color  and  the  coolness 
of  the  snow-fields  from  wliich  they  oozed,  foamed  over  tho 
stones  into  the  chasm  at  the  bottom.  The  glen  descended 
into  a  mountain  basin,  in  which  lay  the  lake  of  Yemouni,  cold 
and  green  under  the  evening  shadows.  But  just  opposite  us, 
on  a  little  shelf  of  soil,  there  was  a  rude  mill,  and  a  group  of 
Ruperb  walnut-trees,  overhanging  the  brink  of  the  largest  tor- 
rent. We  had  sent  our  baggage  before  us,  and  the  men,  with 
an  eye  to  the  picturesque  which  I  should  not  have  suspected 
in  Arabs,  had  pitched  our  tents  under  those  trees,  where  the 
stream  poured  its  snow-cold  beakers  beside  us,  and  the  tent- 
door  looked  down  on  the  plain  of  Baalbec  and  across  to  the 
Anti-Lebanon.  The  miller  and  two  or  three  peasants,  who 
were  living  in  this  lonely  spot,  were  Christians. 

The  next  morning  we  commenced  ascending  the  Lebanon, 
We  had  slept  just  below  the  snow-line,  for  the  long  hollows 
with  which  Ihe  ridge  is  cloven  were  filled  up  to  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  glen,  out  of  which  we  came.  The  path  was 
very  steep,   continually  ascending,    now   around   the   barren 


A     QUARREL     WITH    THE     GUIDE.  17] 

shoulder  of  the  mountain,  now  up  some  ravine,  where  the  holij 
and  olive  still  flourished,  and  the  wild  rhubarb-plant  spread  it« 
large,  succulent  leaves  o;er  the  soil.  We  had  taken  a  guide, 
the  day  before,  at  the  villajre  of  Dayr  el-Almiar,  but  as  the 
way  was  plain  before  us,  and  he  deraand<)d  an  exorbitant  sum, 
we  dismissed  him.  We  had  not  climbed  far,  however,  before 
he  returned,  professing  to  be  content  with  whatever  we  might 
give  him,  and  took  us  into  another  road,  the  first,  he  said, 
being  impracticable.  Up  and  up  we  toiled,  and  the  long 
hollows  of  snow  ky  below  us,  and  the  wind  came  cold  from  the 
topmost  peaks,  which  began  to  show  near  at  band.  But  now 
the  road,  as  we  had  surmised,  turned  towards  that  we  had  first 
taken,  and  on  reacliing  the  next  height  we  saw  the  latter  at  a 
ehort  distance  from  us.  It  was  not  only  a  better,  but  a  shorter 
road,  the  rascal  of  a  guide  having  led  us  out  of  it  in  order  to 
give  the  greater  effect  to  his  services.  In  order  to  return  to 
it,  as  was  necessary,  there  were  several  dangerous  snow-fields 
to  be  passed.  The  angle  of  their  descent  was  so  great  that  a 
fsingle  false  step  would  have  hurled  our  animals,  baggage  and 
all,  many  hundred  feet  below.  The  snow  was  melting,  and  the 
crust  frozen  over  the  streams  below  was  so  thin  in  places  that 
the  animals  broke  through  and  sank  to  their  bellies. 

It  were  needless  to  state  the  number  and  character  of  the 
anathemas  bestowed  upon  the  guide.  The  impassive  Dervish 
raved  ;  Mustapha  stormed  ;  Francois  broke  out  in  a  frightful 
eruption  of  Greek  and  Turkish  oaths,  and  the  two  travellers, 
though  not  (as  I  hope  and  believe)  profixnely  inclined,  could 
not  avoid  using  a  few  terse  Saxon  expressions.  When  the 
general  indignation  had  found  vent,  the  men  went  to  work,  and 
by  taking  each   animal  separately,   succeeded,    at   imminent 


172  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 

hazard,  in  getting  them  all  over  the  snow,  "We  then  dismissed 
the  guide,  who,  far  from  being  abashed  by  the  discovery  of  his 
trickery,  had  the  impudence  to  follow  us  for  some  time,  claim- 
ing his  pay.  A  few  more  steep  pulls,  over  deep  beds  of  snow 
and  patches  of  barren  stone,  and  at  length  the  summit  ridge— 
a  sharp,  white  wall,  shining  against  the  intense  black-blue  of 
the  zenith — stood  before  us.  We  climbed  a  toilsome  zig-zag 
through  the  snow,  hurried  over  the  stones  cumbering  the  top, 
and  all  at  once  the  mountains  fell  away,  ridge  below  ridge, 
gashed  with  tremendous  chasms,  whose  bottoms  were  lost  in 
blue  vapor,  till  the  last  heights,  crowned  with  white  Maronite 
convents,  hung  above  the  sea,  wilose  misty  round  bounded  the 
vision.  I  have  seen  many  grander  mountain  views,  but  few  so 
sublimely  rugged  and  broken  in  their  features.  The  sides  of 
the  ridges  dropped  off  in  all  directions  into  sheer  precipices, 
and  the  few  villages  we  could  see  were  built  like  eagles'  nests 
on  the  brinks.  In  a  little  hollow  at  our  feet  was  the  sacred 
Forest  of  Cedars,  appearing  like  a  patch  of  stunted  junipers. 
It  is  the  highest  speck  of  vegetation  on  Lebanon,  and  in  winter 
cannot  be  visited,  on  account  of  the  snow.  The  summit  on 
which  we  stood  was  about  nine  thousand  feet  above  the  sea, 
but  there  were  peaks  on  each  side  at  least  a  thousand  feet 
Iiigher. 

We  descended  by  a  very  steep  path,  over  occasional  beds  of 
enow,  and  reached  the  Cedars  in  an  hour  and  a  half.  Not 
until  we  were  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  trees,  and  below 
their  level,  was  I  at  all  impressed  with  their  size  and  venera- 
ble aspect.  But,  once  entered  into  the  heart  of  the  little 
wood,  walking  over  its  miniature  hills  and  valleys,  and  breath- 
ing the  pure,  balsamic  exhalations  of  the  trees,  all  the  disap' 


THE     CEDARS     OF     LEBA.VON.  173 

pointment  rising  to  my  miud  was  charmed  away  in  an  instant 
There  are  about  tlirce  hundred  trees,  in  all,  many  of  which  are 
of  the  last  century's  growth,  but  at  least  Qfty  of  them  would 
be  considered  grand  in  any  forest.  The  patriarchs  are  five  in 
number,  anr"  are  undoubtedly  as  old  as  the  Christian  Era,  I* 
not  the  Age  of  Solomon.  The  cypresses  in  the  Garden  of 
Montezuma,  at  Chapultepec,  are  even  older  and  grander  trees, 
but  they  are  as  entire  and  shapely  as  ever,  whereas  these  arc 
gnarled  and  twisted  into  wonderful  forms  by  the  storms  of 
twenty  centuries,  and  shivered  in  some  places  by  lightning. 
The  hoary  father  of  theui  all,  nine  feet  in  diameter,  stands  in 
the  centre  of  the  grove,  on  a  little  knoll,  and  spreads  his  pon- 
derous arms,  each  a  tree  in  itself,  over  the  heads  of  the  many 
generations  that  have  grown  up  below,  as  if  giving  his  last 
benediction  before  decay.  He  is  scarred  less  with  storm  and 
lightning,  than  with  the  knives  of  travellers,  and  the  marble 
crags  of  Lebanon  do  not  more  firmly  retain  their  inscriptions 
than  his  stony  trunk.  Dates  of  the  last  century  are  abundant, 
and  I  recollect  a  tablet  inscribed:  "  Souard,  1G70,"  around 
which  the  newer  wood  has  grown  to  the  height  of  three  or  four 
inches.  The  seclusion  of  the  grove,  shut  in  by  })eaks  of  barren 
snow,  is  complete.  Only  the  voice  of  the  nightingale,  singing 
here  by  daylight  in  the  solemn  shadows,  breaks  the  silence. 
The  Maronite  monk,  who  has  charge  of  a  little  stone  chapel 
standing  in  the  midst,  moves  about  like  a  shade,  and,  not  before 
you  are  ready  to  leave,  brings  his  book  for  you  to  register  your 
name  therein.  I  was  surprised  to  find  how  few  of  the  crowd 
that  annually  overrun  Syria  reach  the  Cedars,  which,  after 
Baalbec,  arc  the  finest  remains  of  actiqaity  in  the  whole 
rountry. 


1 74  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

After  a  stay  of  three  hours,  we  rode  on  to  Eden,  whither  oui 
men  had  already  gone  with  the  baggage.  Onr  road  led  along 
the  brink  of  a  tremendous  gorge,  a  thousand  feet  deep,  the 
bottom  of  which  was  only  accessible  here  and  there  by  hazard- 
ous foot-paths.  On  either  side,  a  long  shelf  of  cultivated  land 
sloped  down  to  the  top,  and  the  mountain  streams,  after  water- 
ing a  multitude  of  orchards  and  grain-fields,  tumbled  over  the 
cliffs  in  long,  sparkling  cascades,  to  join  the  roaring  flood 
below.  This  is  the  Christian  region  of  Lebanon,  inhabited 
almost  wholly  by  Maronites,  who  still  retain  a  portion  of  their 
former  independence,  and  are  the  most  thrifty,  industrious, 
honest,  and  happy  people  in  Syria.  Their  villages  are  not  con- 
crete masses  of  picturesque  filth,  as  are  those  of  the  Moslems, 
bu'u  are  loosely  scattered  among  orchards  of  mulberry,  poplar 
and  vine,  washed  by  fresh  rills,  and  have  an  air  of  comparative 
neatness  and  comfort.  Each  has  its  two  or  three  chapels, 
with  their  little  belfries,  which  toll  the  hours  of  prayer.  Sad 
and  poetic  as  is  the  call  from  the  minaret,  it  never  touched  me 
as  when  I  heard  the  sweet  tongues  of  those  Christian  bells, 
chiming  vespers  far  and  near  on  the  sides  of  Lebanon. 

Eden  merits  its  name.  It  is  a  mountain  paradise,  inhabited 
by  people  so  kind  and  simple-hearted,  that  assuredly  no  venge- 
ful angel  will  ever  drive  them  out  with  his  flaming  sword.  It 
hangs  above  the  gorge,  which  is  here  nearly  two  thousand  feet 
deep,  and  overlooks  a  grand  wilderness  of  mountain-piles, 
erowded  on  and  over  each  other,  from  the  sea  that  gleams 
below,  to  the  topmost  heights  that  keep  off  the  morning  sun. 
The  houses  are  all  built  of  hewn  stone,  and  grouped  in  clusters 
Dnder  the  shade  of  large  walnut-trees.  In  walking  among 
Lhera,  we  received  kind  greetings  everywhere,  and  every  one 


AN     ArrERNOON     IN     EDEK.  175 

who  was  seated  rose  and  reraaintd  standing  as  we  passed 
The  women  are  beautii'ul,  with  sprightly,  intelligent  faces,  quite 
diflFerent  from  the  stupid  Mahometan  females. 

The  children  were  charming  creatures,  and  some  ot  the  girls 
of  ten  or  twelve  years  were  lovely  as  angels.  They  came 
timidly  to  our  tent  (which  the  men  had  pitched  as  before, 
under  two  superb  trees,  beside  a  fountain),  and  offered  us  roses 
and  branches  of  fragrant  white  jasmine.  They  expected  some 
return,  of  course,  but  did  not  ask  it,  and  the  delicate  grace 
with  which  the  offering  was  made  was  beyond  all  pay.  It  was 
Sunday,  and  the  men  and  boys,  having  nothing  better  to  do,  alj 
came  to  see  and  talk  with  us.  I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  circle 
of  gay  and  laughing  villagers,  in  which  we  sat  that  evening, 
while  the  dark  purple  shadows  gradually  filled  up  the  gorges, 
and  broad  golden  lights  poured  over  the  shoulders  of  the  hills. 
The  men  had  much  sport  in  inducing  the  smaller  boys  to  come 
up  and  salute  us.  There  was  one  whom  they  called  "  the 
Consul,"  who  eluded  them  for  some  time,  but  was  finally  caught 
and  placed  in  the  ring  before  us.  "  Peace  be  with  you,  0 
Consul,"  I  said,  making  him  a  profound  uiclination,  "  may  your 
days  be  propitious  1  may  your  shadow  be  increased  !"  but  I 
then  saw,  from  the  vacant  expression  on  the  boy's  face,  that  ho 
was  one  of  those  harmless,  witless  creatures,  whom  yet  one 
cannot  quite  call  idiots.  "  He  is  an  unfortunate  ;  he  knows 
nothing  ;  he  has  no  protector  but  God,"  said  the  men,  crossing 
themselves  devoutly.  The  boy  took  off  his  cap,  crept  up  and 
kissed  my  hand,  as  I  gave  him  some  money,  which  he  no  sooner 
grasped,  than  he  sprang  up  like  a  startled  gazelle,  and  was  out 
of  sight  in  an  instant. 

In  descending  from  Eden  to  the  sea-coast,  we  were  obliged 


116  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN, 

to  cross  the  great  gorge  of  which  I  spoke.  Further  down,  its 
Bides  are  less  steep,  and  clothed  even  to  the  very  bottom  with 
magnificent  orchards  of  mulberry,  fig,  olive,  orange,  and  pome- 
granate trees.  We  were  three  hours  in  reaching  the  opposite 
Bide,  although  the  breadth  across  the  top  is  not  more  than  a 
mile.  The  path  was  exceedingly  perilous  ;  we  walked  down, 
leading  our  horses,  and  once  were  obliged  to  unload  our 
mules  to  get  them  past  a  tree,  which  would  have  forced 
them  off  the  brink  of  a  chasm  several  hundred  feet  deep. 
The  view  from  the  bottom  was  wonderful.  We  were  shut 
in  by  steeps  of  foliage  and  blossoms  from  two  to  three 
thousand  feet  high,  broken  by  crags  of  white  marble,  and 
towering  almost  precipitously  to  the  very  clouds.  I  doubt  if 
Melville  saw  anything  grander  in  the  tropical  gorges  of 
Typee.  After  reaching  the  other  side,  we  had  still  a  journey 
of  eight  hours  to  the  sea,  through  a  wild  and  broken,  yet 
highly  cultivated  country. 

Beyrout  was  now  thirteen  hours  distant,  but  by  making  a 
forced  march  we  .reached  it  in  a  day,  travelling  along  the 
shore,  past  the  towns  of  Jebcil,  the  ancient  Byblus,  and 
Joouieh.  The  hills  about  Jebeil  produce  the  celebrated 
tobacco  known  in  Egypt  as  the  Jcbelee,  or  "  mountain"  tobacco, 
which  is  even  superior  to  the  Latakiyeh. 

Kear  Beyrout,  the  mulberry  and  olive  are  in  the  ascendant. 
Tlie  latter  tree  bears  the  finest  fruit  in  all  the  Levant, 
and  might  drive  all  other  oils  out  of  the  market,  if 
any  one  had  enterprise  enough  to  erect  proper  manufac- 
tories. Instead  of  this  the  oil  of  the  country  is  badly 
prepared,  rancid  from  the  skins  in  which  it  is  kept,  and  the 
wealthy  natives  import  from  France  and  Italy  in  preference  ttf 


HTRIAN     CDLTIVATIOJf.  ii7 

tiBing  it.  In  the  bottoms  near  the  sea,  I  saw  several  fields  of 
the  taro-plant,  the  cultiyation  of  which  I  had  supposed  waa 
exclusively  confined  to  the  Islands  of  the  Pacific.  There 
would  be  no  end  to  the  wealth  of  Syria  were  the  coontry  in 
proper  Daiids. 


378  '^K     I.ANDB     OF    T«E     SARACKW. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

PIPES    AND     COFFEE 

'  the  kind  nymph  to  Bacchus  bom 


By  Morpheus'  fiangliter,  she  that  seen;* 

Gifted  upon  her  natal  morn 

By  him  with  fire,  by  her  with  dreams — 

Nicotia,  dearer  to  the  Muse 

Than  all  the  grape's  bewildering  juice."  Lowku 

I»  painting  the  picture  of  an  Oriental,  the  pipe  and  the  coffee* 
cup  are  indispensable  accessories.  There  is  scarce  a  Turk,  or 
Arab,  or  Persian — unless  he  be  a  Dervish  of  peculiar  sanctity — 
but  breathes  his  daily  incense  to  the  milder  Bacchus  of  the 
moderns.  The  custom  has  become  so  thoroughly  naturalized 
in  the  East,  that  wo  are  apt  to  forget  its  comparatively  recent 
introduction,  and  to  wonder  that  no  mentici.  is  made  of  the 
pipe  in  the  Arabian  Nights.  The  practice  of  smoking  harmo- 
nizes so  thoroughly  with  the  character  of  Oriental  life,  that  it 
is  difficult  for  us  to  imagine  a  time  when  it  never  existed.  It 
has  become  a  part  of  that  supreme  patience,  that  wonderful 
repose,  which  forms  so  strong  a  contrast  to  the  over-active  life 
of  the  New  World — the  enjoyment  of  which  no  one  can  taste, 
to  whom  the  pipe  is  not  familiar.  IIowl,  ye  Reformers  1  but  I 
solemnly  declare  unto  you,  that  he  who  travels  through  the 
East  without  smoking,  does  not  know  the  East. 

It  is  strange  that  our  Continent,  where  the  meaning  of  Real 


THE    PIPE.  116 

is  auknovm,  should  have  given  to  the  world  this  great  agent  of 
Rest.  There  is  nothing  more  remarkable  in  history  than  the 
colonization  of  Tobacco  over  the  whole  Earth.  Not  three 
centuries  have  elapsed  since  knightly  Raleigh  puffed  its  fumca 
into  the  astonished  eyes  of  Spenser  and  Shakspeare  ;  and  now, 
find  me  any  corner  of  the  world,  from  Tsova  Zembla  to  the 
Mountains  of  the  Moon,  where  the  use  of  the  plant  is  unknown  1 
Tarshish  (if  India  was  Tarshish)  is  less  distinguished  by  its 
"  apes,  ivory,  and  peacocks,"  than  by  its  hookahs  ;  the  valleya 
of  Luzon,  beyond  Ternate  and  Tidore,  send  us  more  cheroots 
than  spices  ;  the  Gardens  of  Shiraz  jiroducc  more  velvety 
toomhek  than  roses,  and  the  only  fountains  which  bubble  iu 
Samarcand  are  those  of  the  narghilehs  :  Lebanon  is  no  longer 
"excellent  with  the  Cedais,"  as  in  the  days  of  Solomon,  but 
most  excellent  with  its  fields  of  Jebelee  and  Latakiyeh,  On 
the  unvisited  plains  of  Central  Africa,  the  table-lands  of  Tar- 
tary,  and  in  the  valleys  of  Japan,  the  wonderful  i)lant  has  found 
a  home.  The  naked  negro,  "panting  at  the  Line,"  inhales  it 
under  the  palms,  and  the  Lapp  and  Samoyed  on  the  shores  of 
the  Frozen  Sea. 

It  is  idle  for  those  who  object  to  the  use  of  Tobacco  to 
attribute  these  phenomena  wholly  to  a  perverted  taste.  The 
fact  that  the  custom  was  at  once  adopted  by  all  the  races  of 
men,  whatever  their  geographical  position  and  degree  of  civili- 
eation,  proves  that  there  must  be  a  reason  for  it  in  the  physical 
constitution  of  man.  Its  effect,  when  habitually  used,  is 
Blightly  narcotic  and  sedative,  not  stimulating — or  if  so,  af. 
times,  it  stimulates  only  the  imagination  and  the  social  facul- 
ties. It  lulls  to  sleep  the  combative  and  destructive  propensi- 
ties, and  hence — so  far  as  a  material  agent  may  operate — '\i 


180  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN, 

exercises  a  humanizing  and  refining  influence.  A  profound 
Btudent  of  Man,  whose  name  is  well  known  to  the  world,  onco 
informed  me  that  he  saw  iu  the  eagerness  with  which  sa\age 
tribes  adopt  the  use  of  Tobacco,  a  spontaneous  movement  of 
Nature  towards  Civilization. 

I  will  not  pursue  these  speculations  further,  for  the  narghileh 
(bubbling  softly  at  my  elbow,  as  I  write)  is  the  promoter  of 
repose  and  the  begetter  of  agreeable  reverie.  As  I  inhale  its 
cool,  fragrant  breath,  and  partly  yield  myself  to  the  sensation 
of  healthy  rest  which  wraps  my  limbs  as  with  a  velvet  mantle, 
I  marvel  how  the  poets  and  artists  and  scholars  of  olden  timea 
nursed  those  dreams  which  the  world  calls  indolence,  but  which 
are  the  seeds  that  germiuate  into  great  achievements.  How  did 
Plato  philosophize  without  the  pipe  ?  How  did  gray  Homer, 
sitting  on  the  temple-steps  in  the  Grecian  twilights,  drive 
from  his  heart  the  bitterness  of  beggary  and  blindness  ?  How 
did  Phidias  charm  the  Cerberus  of  his  animal  nature  to  sleep, 
■while  his  soul  entered  the  Elysian  Fields  and  beheld  the  forma 
of  heroes  ?  For,  in  the  higher  world  of  Art,  Body  and  Soul 
are  sworn  enemies,  and  the  pipe  holds  an  opiate  more  potent 
than  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  East,  to  drug  the  former 
into  submission.  Milton  knew  this,  as  he  smoked  his  evening 
pipe  at  Chalfont,  wandering,  the  while,  among  the  palms  of 
Paradise. 

But  it  is  also  our  loss,  that  Tobacco  was  unknown  to  ths 
Greeks.  They  would  else  have  given  us,  in  verse  and  in  mar- 
ble, another  divinity  in  their  glorious  Pantheon— a  god  les? 
drowsy  than  Morpheus  and  Somnus,  less  riotous  than  Bacchus, 
less  radiant  than  Apollo,  but  with  something  of  the  spirit  of 
each  :  a  figure,  beautiful  with  youth,  every  muscle  in  perfect 


THE    PIPE.  181 

repose,  and  the  yague  expression  of  dreams  in  his  half-closed 
eyes.  His  temple  would  have  been  built  in  a  grove  of  South- 
ern pines,  on  the  borders  of  a  land-locked  gulf,  sheltered  from 
the  surges  that  buffet  without,  where  service  would  liave  been 
rendered  him  in  the  late  hours  of  the  afternoon,  or  in  the  even- 
ing twilight.  From  his  oracular  tripod  words  of  wisdom  would 
have  been  spoken,  and  the  fanes  of  Delphi  and  Dodona  would 
have  been  deserted  for  his. 

Oh,  non-smoking  friends,  who  read  these  lines  with  pain  and 
incredulity — and  you,  ladies,  who  turn  pale  at  the  thought  of  a 
pipe — let  me  tell  you  that  you  are  familiar  only  with  the  vul- 
gar form  of  tobacco,  and  have  never  passed  between  the  wind 
and  its  gentility.  The  word  conveys  no  idea  to  you  but  that 
of  "  long  nines,"  and  pig-tail,  and  cavendish.  Forget  these  for 
a  moment,  and  look  upon  this  dark-brown  cake  of  dried  leaves 
and  blossoms,  which  exhales  an  odor  of  pressed  flowers.  These 
are  the  tender  tops  of  the  Melee,  plucked  as  the  buds  begin  to 
expand,  aud  carefully  dried  in  the  shade.  In  order  to  be  used, 
it  is  moistened  with  rose-scented  water,  and  cut  to  the  neces- 
sary degree  of  fineness.  Tlie  test  of  true  Jebelee  is,  that  it 
burns  with  a  slow,  hidden  fire,  like  tinder,  and  causes  no  irrita- 
tion to  the  eye  when  held  under  it.  The  smoke,  drawn  through 
a  long  cherry-stick  pipe  and  amber  mouth-piece,  is  pure,  cool, 
and  sweet,  with  an  aromatic  flavor,  which  is  very  pleasant  in 
the  mouth.  It  excites  no  sahvation,  and  leaves  behind  it  no 
unpleasant,  stale  odor. 

The  narghileh  (still  bubbling  beside  me)  is  an  institution 
snown  only  in  the  East.  It  requires  a  peculiar  kind  of 
tobacco,  which  grows  to  perfection  in  the  southern  provinces 
Af  Persia      The  smoke,  after  passing  through  water  (rose 


1S2  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

flavored,  if  you  choose),  is  inhaled  through  a  long,  dexihla 
tube  directly  into  the  lungs.  It  occasions  not  the  slightest 
irritation  or  oppression,  but  in  a  few  minutes  produces  a 
delicious  sense  of  rest,  which  is  felt  even  in  the  finger-ends. 
The  pure  physical  sensation  of  rest  is  one  of  strength  also,  and 
of  perfect  contentment.  Many  an  impatient  thouglit,  many  ao 
angry  word,  have  I  avoided  by  a  resort  to  the  pipe.  Among 
cur  aborigines  the  pipe  was  the  emblem  of  Peace,  and  I 
Btrongly  recommend  the  Peace  Society  to  print  their  tracts 
upon  papers  of  smoking  tobacco  (Turkish,  if  possible),  and 
distribute  pipes  with  them. 

I  know  of  nothing  more  refresliing,  after  the  fatigue  of  a  long 
day's  journey,  than  a  well-prepared  narghileh.  Tliat  slight 
feverish  and  excitable  feeling  which  is  the  result  of  fatigue 
yields  at  once  to  its  potency.  The  blood  loses  its  heat  and  the 
pulse  its  rapidity  ;  the  muscles  relax,  the  nerves  are  soothed 
into  quiet,  and  the  frame  passes  into  a  condition  similar  to 
Bleep,  except  that  the  mind  is  awake  and  active.  By  the  time 
one  has  finished  his  pipe,  he  is  refreshed  for  the  remainder  of 
the  day,  and  his  nightly  sleep  is  sound  and  healthy.  Such  are 
some  of  the  physical  effects  of  the  pipe,  in  Eastern  lands. 
Morally  and  psychologically,  it  works  still  greater  transforma- 
tions ;  but  to  describe  them  now,  with  the  mouth-piece  at  my 
lips,  would  require  an  active  self  consciousness  which  the  habit 
does  not  allow. 

A  servant  enters  with  a  steamy  cup  of  coffee,  seated  in  a 
silver  ztrf,  or  cup-holder.  His  thumb  and  fore-finger  are 
clasped  firmly  upon  the  bottom  of  the  zerf,  which  I  inclose 
near  the  top  with  my  own  thumb  and  finger,  so  that  the  trans 
(or  is  accomplished  without   his  hand  having  touched  miiie. 


COFFEE.  183 

After  draining  tlie  tliick  brcwn  liquid,  which  lurst  bft  vioiiti 
with  due  deliberation  and  a  pause  of  satisfaction  between  each 
Bip,  T  return  the  zerf,  holding  it  in  the  middle,  while  the  attcn- 
dant  places  a  j)alm  of  each  hand  upon  the  top  and  bottom  and 
carries  it  oil"  without  contact.  The  beverage  is  made  of  the 
berries  of  Mocha,  slightly  roasted,  pulverized  in  a  mortar,  and 
heated  to  a  foam,  without  the  addition  of  cream  or  sugar. 
Sometimes,  however,  it  is  flavored  with  the  extract  of  roses  or 
violets.  When  skilfully  made,  each  cup  is  prepared  separately, 
and  the  quantity  of  water  and  coffee  carefully  measured. 

Coffee  is  a  true  child  of  the  East,  and  its  original  home  waa 
among  the  hills  of  Yemen,  the  Arabia  Felix  of  the  ancients. 
Fortunately  for  Mussulmen,  its  use  was  unknown  in  the  days 
of  Mahomet,  or  it  would  probably  have  fallen  under  the  same 
prohibition  as  wine.  The  word  Kahweh  (whence  aife)  is  an 
old  Arabic  term  for  wine.  The  discovery  of  the  properties  of 
coffee  is  attributed  to  a  dervish,  who,  for  some  misdemeanor, 
was  carried  into  the  mountains  of  Yemen  by  his  brethren  and 
there  left  to  perish  by  starvation.  In  order  to  appease  the 
pangs  of  hunger  he  gathered  the  ripe  berries  from  the  wild 
coffee-trees,  roasted  and  ate  them.  The  nourishment  they  coa- 
tained,  with  water  from  the  springs,  sustained  his  life,  and  aftei 
two  or  three  months  he  returned  in  good  condition  to  hia 
brethren,  who  considered  his  preservation  as  a  miracle,  and 
2ver  afterwards  looked  upon  him  as  a  pattern  of  holines?.  He 
waught  the  use  of  the  miraculous  fruit,  and  the  demand  for  it 
soon  became  so  great  as  to  render  the  cultivation  of  the  tree 
necessary.  It  was  a  long  time,  however,  before  coffee  waa 
introduced  into  Europe.  As  late  as  the  beginning  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  Sandys,  the  quaint  old  traveller,  describes 


184  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

the  appearance  and  taste  of  the  beverage,  which  he  calU 
"  Coffa,"  and  safely  asks  :  "  Why  not  that  black  broth  which 
the  Laccdecionians  used  ?" 

On  account  of  the  excellence  of  the  material,  and  the  skilful 
aianncr  of  its  preparation,  the  Coffee  of  the  East  is  the  fiiiest 
in  the  world.  I  have  found  it  so  grateful  and  refreshing  a 
drink,  that  I  can  readily  i)ardon  the  jjleasant  exaggeration  of 
the  Arabic  poet,  Abd-el  Kader  Anazari  Djezeri  Hanbali,  the 
Bon  of  Mahomet,  who  thus  celebrates  its  virtues.  After  such 
Bn  exalted  eulogy,  ray  own  praises  would  sound  dull  and  tame  ; 
and  I  therefore  resume  my  pipe,  commending  Abd-el  Kader  to 
the  reader. 

"  0  Coffee  1  thou  dispellcst  the  cares  of  the  great ;  thoa 
bringest  back  those  who  wander  from  the  paths  of  knowledge. 
Coffee  is  the  beverage  of  the  people  of  God,  and  the  cordial 
of  his  servants  who  thirst  for  wisdom.  When  coffee  is  infused 
iuto  the  bowl,  it  exhales  the  odor  of  musk,  and  is  of  the  color 
of  ink.  The  truth  is  not  known  except  to  the  wise,  who  drink 
it  from  the  foaming  coffee-cup.  God  has  deprived  fools  of 
coffee,  who,  with  invincible  obstinacy,  condemn  it  as  injurious. 

"  Coffee  is  our  gold  ;  and  in  the  place  of  its  libations  we  are 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  best  and  noblest  society.  Coffee  ia 
even  as  innocent  a  drink  as  the  purest  milk,  from  which  it  ia 
distinguished  only  by  its  color.  Tarry  with  thy  coffee  in  the 
place  of  its  preparation,  and  the  good  God  will  hover  over 
thee  and  participate  in  his  feast.  There  the  graces  of  the 
Baloon,  the  luxury  of  life,  the  society  of  friends,  uU  furnish  a 
picture  of  the  abode  of  happiness. 

"  Every  care  vanishes  when  the  cup-bearer  presents  the  deli- 
cious chalice.     It  will  circulate  fleetly  through  tny  vems,  and 


TES     PRAISE     OF     COFFEE  195 

will  not  rankle  there  :  if  tliou  doubtest  this,  contimplate  the 
youth  and  beauty  of  those  who  drink  it.  Grief  cannot  exist 
where  it  grows  ;  sorrow  humbles  itself  in  obedience  before  its 
powers. 

"  Coffee  is  the  drink  of  God's  people  ;  in  it  is  health  Let 
this  be  the  answer  to  those  who  doubt  its  qualities.  In  it  we 
will  drown  our  adversities,  and  in  its  fire  consume  our  sorrows 
Wliocver  has  once  seen  the  blissful  chalice,  will  scorn  the  wine* 
cup.  Glorious  drink  !  thy  color  is  the  seal  of  purity,  and 
reason  proclaims  it  genuine.  Drink  with  confidence,  and  regard 
cot  the  prattle  of  fools,  who  coudema  without  foundation." 


188  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

JOURNEY  TO  ANTIOCH  AND  ALEPPO. 

Obango  of  Plans— Routes  to  Baghdad— Asia  Minor— We  sail  from  Beyrout— Yachting 
on  the  Syrian  Coast— Tartus  and  Latakiyeh— Tlie  Coasts  of  Syria— The  Biy  of  Sae- 
diah— The  Mouth  of  the  Orontes— Landing— The  Garden  of  Syria— Ride  to  Antioch 
—The  Modern  City— The  Plains  of  the  Orontes— Remains  of  the  Greek  Empire— Tli« 
Ancient  Road— The  Plain  of  Keftin— Approach  to  Aleppo. 

"  The  chain  is  loosed,  the  sails  are  spread, 
The  living  breath  is  fresh  behind, 
As,  with  dews  and  sunrise  fed. 

Comes  the  laughiug  morning  wind." 

Shelley. 

Aleppo,  Friday,  June  4,  1S52. 

A.  TRAVELLER  vo.  the  East,  who  has  not  uubounded  time  and  an 
extensive  fortune  •  at  his  disposal,  is  never  certain  where  and 
how  far  he  shall  go,  until  his  journey  is  finished.  With  but  a 
limited  portion  of  both  these  necessaries,  I  have  so  far  carried 
out  my  original  plan  with  scarcely  a  variation;  but  at  present  I 
am  obliged  to  make  a  material  change  of  route.  My  farthest 
East  is  here  at  Aleppo.  A  t  Damascus,  I  was  told  by  every- 
body that  it  was  too  late  in  the  season  to  visit  either  Baghdad 
or  Mosul,  and  that,  on  account  of  the  terrible  summer  heata 
and  the  fevers  which  prevail  along  the  Tigris,  it  would  bo 
imprudent  to  undertake  it.  Notwithstanding  this,  I  should 
probably  have  gone  (being  now  so  thoroughly  acclimated  that 
1  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the  heat),  had  I  not  met  with  a 


ROUTES    TO     BAGHDAD,  181 

friend  of  Col.  Rawlinson,  the  companion  of  Layard,  and  the 
sharer  in  liis  discoveries  at  Nineveh.  This  gentleman,  who 
met  Col.  R.  not  long  since  in  Constantinople,  on  his  way  to 
Baghdad  (where  he  resides  as  British  Consul),  informed  me 
that  since  the  departure  of  Mr.  Layard  from  Mosul,  the  most 
Interesting  excavations  have  been  filled  up,  in  order  to  preserve 
the  sculptures.  Unless  one  was  able  to  make  a  new  exhuma- 
tion, he  would  be  by  no  means  repaid  for  so  long  and  arduous 
a  journey.  The  ruins  of  Nineveh  are  all  below  the  surface 
of  the  earth,  and  the  little  of  them  that  is  now  left  exposed, 
is  less  complete  and  interesting  than  the  specimens  in  the 
British  Museum. 

There  is  a  route  from  Damascus  to  Baghdad,  across  the 
Desert,  by  way  of  Palmyra,  but  it  is  rarely  travelled,  even  by 
the  natives,  except  when  the  caravans  are  sufficiently  strong  to 
withstand  the  attacks  of  tlie  Bedouins,  The  traveller  is 
obliged  to  go  in  Arab  costume,  to  leave  his  baggage  behind, 
except  a  meagre  scrip  for  the  journey,  and  to  pay  from  $300  to 
$500  for  the  camels  and  escort.  The  more  usual  route  is  to 
come  northward  to  this  city,  then  cross  to  Mosul  and  descend 
the  Tigris — a  journey  of  four  or  five  weeks.  After  weighing 
all  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  undertaking  a  tour  cf 
Buch  length  as  it  would  be  necessary  to  make  before  reaching 
Constantinople,  I  decided  at  Beyrout  to  give  up  the  fascinating 
fields  of  tra^'al  in  Media,  Assyria  and  Armenia,  and  take  a 
rather  shorter  and  perhaps  equally  interesting  route  from 
Aleppo  to  Constantinople,  by  way  of  Tarsus,  Konia  (Iconium), 
and  the  ancient  countries  of  Phrygia,  Bithynia,  and  Mysia. 
The  interior  of  Asia  Minor  is  even  less  known  to  us  than  the 
Persian  side  of  Asiatic  Turkey,  which  has  of  late  received 


188  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

more  attention  from  travellers  ;  and,  as  I  shall  traverse  it  i\ 
its  whole  length,  from  Syria  tc  the  Bosphorus,  I  may  find  it 
replete  with  "green  fields  and  pastures  new,"  which  shall  repay 
me  for  relinquishing  the  first  and  more  ambitious  undertaking 
At  least,  I  have  so  much  reason  to  be  grateful  for  the  uninter- 
rupted good  health  and  good  luck  I  have  enjoyed  during  seven 
months  in  Africa  and  the  Orient,  that  I  cannot  be  otherwise 
th.an  content  with  the  prospect  before  me. 

I  left  Beyrout  on  the  night  of  the  28th  of  May,  with  Mr. 
Harrison,  who  has  decided  to  keep  me  company  as  far  as  Con- 
stantinople. Francois,  our  classic  dragoman,  whose  great 
delight  is  to  recite  Homer  by  the  sea-side,  is  retained  for  tho 
whole  tour,  as  we  have  found  no  reason  to  doubt  his  honesty 
or  ability.  Our  first  thought  was  to  proceed  to  Aleppo  by 
land,  by  way  of  Horns  and  Hamah,  whence  there  might  be  a 
ihance  of  reaching  Palmyra  ;  but  as  we  found  an  opportunity 
of  engaging  an  American  yacht  for  the  voyage  up  the  coast, 
it  was  thought  preferable  to  take  her,  and  save  time.  She  wa3 
a  neat  little  craft,  culled  the  "American  Eagle,"  brought  out  by 
Mr.  Smith,  our  Consul  at  Beyrout.  So,  one  fine  moonlit  night, 
we  slowly  crept  out  of  the  harbor,  and  after  returning  a  volley 
of  salutes  from  our  friends  at  Demetri's  Hotel,  ran  into  the 
heart  of  a  thunder-storm,  which  poured  down  more  rain  than 
all  I  had  seen  for  eight  months  before.  But  our  rais,  Assad 
(the  Lion),  was  worthy  of  his  name,  and  had  two  good  Chris- 
tian sailors  at  his  command,  so  we  lay  in  the  cramped  little 
cabin,  and  heard  the  floods  washing  our  deck,  without 
fear. 

In  the  morning,  we  were  off  Tripoli,  which  is  even  more 
deeply  brried  than  Beyrout  in  its  orange  and  mulberry  groves. 


THE     COAST    OF     SYRIA.  189 

and  slowly  wafted  along  the  bold  mountain-coast,  in  the  after 
noon  reached  Tartus,  the  Ancient  Tortosa.  A  mile  from  shore 
is  the  rockv  ishind  of  Aradus,  entirely  covered  by  a  town, 
There  were  a  dozen  vessels  lying  in  the  harbor.  Tlie  remains 
of  a  large  fortress  and  ancient  mole  prove  it  to  have  been  a 
place  of  considerable  importance.  Tartus  is  a  small  old  place 
on  the  sea-shore — not  so  large  nor  so  important  in  aopearance 
as  its  island-port.  The  country  behind  is  green  and  hilly, 
though  but  partially  cultivated,  and  rises  into  Djebol  Ansairi- 
yeh,  which  divides  the  valley  of  the  Orontes  from  the  sea.  It 
is  a  lovely  coast,  especially  under  the  flying  lights  and  shadows 
of  such  a  breezy  day  as  we  had.  The  wind  fell  at  sunset  ;  but 
by  the  next  morning,  we  had  passed  the  tobacco-fields  of  Lata- 
kiyeh,  and  were  in  sight  of  the  southern  cape  of  the  Bay  of 
Suediah.  The  mountains  forming  this  cape  culminate  in  a  grand 
conical  peak,  about  5,000  feet  in  height,  called  Djebel  Okrab. 
At  ten  o'clock,  wafted  along  by  a  slow  wind,  we  turned  the 
point  and  entered  the  Bay  of  Suediah,  formed  by  the  embou- 
chure of  the  River  Orontes.  The  mountain  headland  of  Akma 
Dagh,  forming  the  portal  of  the  Gulf  of  Scanderoon,  loomed 
grandly  in  front  of  us  across  the  bay  ;  and  far  beyond  it,  we 
could  just  distinguish  the  coast  of  Karamauia,  the  snow-capped 
range  of  Taurus. 

The  Coasts  of  Syria  might  be  divided,  like  those  of  Guinea, 
according  to  the  nature  of  their  productions.  The  northern 
division  is  bold  and  bare,  yet  flocks  of  sheep  graze  on  the 
slopes  of  its  mountains  ;  and  the  inland  plains  behind  them'are 
covered  with  orchards  of  pistachio-trees.  Silk  is  cultivated  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Suediah,  but  forms  only  a  small  portion 
of  the  exports.     This  region  may  be  called  the  Wool  and  Pi* 


190  THE     LANDS    OF    THE     SARACEN. 

tachio  Coast.  Southward,  from  Latakiyeh  to  Tartas  aud  the 
nortbem  limit  of  Lebanon,  extends  the  Tobacco  Coast,  whose 
undulating  hills  are  now  clothed  with  the  pale-green  leaves  of 
the  renowned  plant.  From  Tripoli  to  Tyre,  embracing  all  the 
western  slope  of  Lebanon,  and  the  deep,  rich  valleys  lying 
between  his  knees,  the  mulberry  predominates,  and  the  land  is 
covered  with  the  houses  of  thatch  and  matting  which  shelter 
the  busy  worms.  This  is  the  Silk  Coast.  The  palmy  plains  of 
Jaifa,  and  beyond,  until  Syria  meets  the  African  sands  between 
Gaza  and  El-Arish,  constitute  the  Orange  Coast.  The  vine, 
the  olive,  and  the  fig  flourish  everywhere. 

We  were  all  day  getting  up  the  bay,  and  it  seemed  as  if  we 
Bhould  never  pass  Djebel  Okrab,  whose  pointed  top  rose  high 
above  a  long  belt  of  fleecy  clouds  that  girdled  his  waist.  At 
sunset  we  made  the  mouth  of  the  Orontes.  Our  lion  of  a 
Captain  tried  to  run  into  the  river,  but  the  channel  was  very 
narrow,  and  when  within  three  hundred  yards  of  the  shore  tho 
yacht  struck.  We  had  all  sail  set,  and  had  the  wind  been  a 
little  stronger,  we  should  have  capsized  in  an  instant.  The  lion 
went  manfully  to  work,  and  by  dint  of  hard  poling,  shoved  us 
off,  and  came  to  anchor  in  deep  water.  Not  until  the  danger 
was  past  did  he  open  his  batteries  on  the  unlucky  helmsman,  and 
then  the  explosion  of  Arabic  oaths  was  equal  to  a  broadside 
of  twenty-four  pounders.  We  lay  all  night  rocking  on  the 
swells,  and  the  next  morning,  by  firing  a  number  of  signal  guns, 
brought  out  a  boat,  which  took  us  off.  We  entered  the  mouth 
of  the  Orontes,  and  sailed  nearly  a  mile  between  rich  wheat 
meadows  before  reaching  the  landing-place  of  Suediah — two  oi 
three  uninhabited  stone  huts,  with  three  or  four  small  Turkish 
craft,  and  a  health  officer.    The  town  lies  a  mile  or  two  inland: 


THK     GARDEN    OF     SYRIA.  191 

scatteicd  along  the    liill-side   amid  gardens   so  luxar^ant   aa 
almost  to  conceal  it  from  view. 

This  part  of  the  coast  is  ignorant  of  trayellers,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  wait  half  a  day  before  we  could  find  a  suEBcient 
nnmber  of  horses  to  take  us  to  Antioch,  twenty  miles  distant. 
Wlien  they  came,  they  were  solid  farmers'  horses,  with  the 
rudest  gear  imaginable.  I  was  obliged  to  mount  astride  of  a 
broad  pack-saddle,  with  my  legs  suspended  in  coils  of  rope. 
Leaving  the  meadows,  we  entered  a  lane  of  tbe  wildest,  rich- 
est and  loveliest  bloom  and  foliage.  Our  way  was  overhung 
with  hedges  of  pomegranate,  myrtle,  oleander,  and  white  rose, 
in  blossom,  and  occasionally  with  quince,  fig,  and  carob  trees, 
laced  together  with  grape  vines  in  fragrant  bloom.  Sometimes 
this  wilderness  of  color  and  odor  met  above  our  heads  and 
made  a  twilight  ;  then  it  opened  into  long,  dazzling,  sun- 
bright  vistas,  where  the  hues  of  the  oleander,  pomegranate  and 
white  rose  made  the  eye  wink  with  their  gorgeous  profusion. 
The  mountains  we  crossed  were  covered  with  thickets  of  myrtle, 
mastic,  daphne,  and  arbutus,  and  all  the  valleys  and  sloping 
meads  waved  with  fig,  mulberry,  and  olive  trees.  Looking 
towards  the  sea,  the  valley  broadened  out  between  mountain 
ranges  whose  summits  were  lost  in  the  clouds.  Though  the 
soil  was  not  so  rich  as  in  Palestine,  the  general  aspect  of  the 
country  was  much  wilder  and  more  luxuriant. 

So,  by  this  glorious  lane,  over  the  myrtled  hills  and  down 
into  valleys,  whose  bed  was  one  hue  of  rose  from  the  bIossom« 
iug  oleanders,  we  travelled  for  five  hours,  crossing  the  low 
langcs  of  hills  through  which  the  Orontes  forces  his  way  to  the 
Eea  At  last  we  reached  a  height  overlooking  the  valley  oi 
the  rivofi  and  saw  in  the  east,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain 


192  THE  LAXDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

cbain,  the  loug  lines  of  barracks  built  by  Ibrahim  Pasha  foi 
the  defence  of  Antioch.  Behind  them  the  ancient  wall  of  the 
city  clomb  the  mountains,  whose  crest  it  followed  to  the  last 
peak  of  thfj  chain.  From  the  next  hill  we  saw  the  city — a 
large  extent  of  one-story  houses  with  tiled  roofs,  surrounded 
with  gardens,  a.id  half  buried  in  the  foliage  of  sycamores.  It 
extends  from  the  River  Orontes,  which  washes  its  walls,  up  the 
slope  of  the  mountain  to  the  crags  of  gray  rock  which  over- 
hang it.  We  crossed  the  river  by  a  massive  old  bridge,  and 
entered  the  town.  Riding  along  the  rills  of  filth  which  tra- 
verse the  streets,  forming  their  central  avenues,  we  passed 
through  several  lines  of  bazaars  to  a  large  and  dreary-looking 
khan,  the  keeper  of  which  gave  us  the  best  vacant  chamber — 
a  narrow  place,  full  of  fleas. 

Antioch  presents  not  even  a  shadow  of  its  former  splendor. 
Except  the  great  walls,  ten  to  fifteen  miles  in  circuit,  which 
the  Turks  have  done  their  best  to  destroy,  every  vestige  of  the 
old  city  has  disappeared.  The  houses  are  all  of  one  story,  on 
account  of  earthquakes,  from  which  Antioch  has  suffered  more 
than  any  other  city  in  the  world.  At  one  time,  during  tho 
Middle  Ages,  it  lost  120,000  inhabitants  in  one  day.  Its  situ- 
ation is  magnificent,  and  the  modern  town,  notwithstanding  its 
filth,  wears  a  bright  and  busy  aspect.  Situated  at  the  base  of 
a  lofty  mountain,  it  overlooks,  towards  the  cast,  a  plain  thirty 
or  forty  miles  in  length,  producing  the  most  abundant  harvests. 
A  great  number  of  the  inhabitants  are  workers  in  wood  and 
feather,  and  very  thrifty  and  cheerful  people  they  appear  to  be. 

We  remained  until  the  next  day  at  noon,  by  which  time  a 
gray-bearded  scamp,  the  chief  of  the  mukkairees,  or  muleteers. 
succeeded  in  getting  us  five  miserable  boosts  for  the  journey 


THE     VALLEY     OF    THE     ORONTES.  199 

to  Aleppo.  Oil  leaving  the  city,  we  travelled  along  a  former 
street  of  Antioch,  part  of  the  ancient  pavement  still  remain- 
ing, and  after  two  miles  came  to  the  old  wall  of  circuit,  which 
we  passed  by  a  massive  gateway,  of  Roman  time.  It  is  now 
called  Bab  Boulos,  or  St.  Paul's  Gate.  Christianity,  it  will 
be  remembered,  was  planted  in  Antioch  by  Paul  and  Barna- 
bas, and  the  Apostle  Peter  was  the  first  bishop  of  the  city, 
"We  now  entered  the  great  plain  of  tlie  Orontes — a  level  sea, 
rioting  in  the  wealth  of  its  ripening  harvests.  The  river,  lined 
with  luxuriant  thickets,  meandered  through  the  centre  of  this 
glorious  picture.  We  crossed  it  during  the  afternoon,  and 
keeping  on  our  eastward  course,  encamped  at  night  in  a  mea- 
dow near  the  tents  of  some  wandering  Turcomans,  who  fur- 
nished us  with  butter  and  milk  from  their  herds. 

Leaving  the  plain  the  next  morning,  we  travelled  due  east 
all  day,  over  long  stony  ranges  of  mountains,  inclosing  only 
one  valley,  which  bore  evidence  of  great  fertility.  It  was  cir- 
cular, about  ten  miles  in  its  greater  diameter,  and  bounded  on 
the  north  by  the  broad  peak  of  Djebel  Saman,  or  Mount  St. 
Simon.  In  the  morning  we  passed  a  ruined  castle,  standing  in 
a  dry,  treeless  dell,  among  the  hot  hills.  The  muleteers  called 
it  the  Maiden's  Palace,  and  said  that  it  was  built  long  ago  by 
a  powerful  Sultan,  as  a  prison  for  his  daughter.  For  several 
hours  thereafter,  our  road  was  lined  with  remains  of  buildings, 
apparently  dating  from  the  time  of  the  Greek  Empire.  There 
were  tombs,  temples  of  massive  masonry,  though  in  a  bad  style 
of  architecture,  and  long  rows  of  arched  chambers,  which 
resembled  store-houses.  They  were  all  more  or  less  shattered 
by  earthquakes,  but  in  one  place  I  noticed  twenty  such  arches, 
each  of  at  least  twenty  feet  si>an.     All  the  hills,  on  either 

9 


194  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

hand,  as  far  as  we  could  see,  were  covered  with  the  remains  of 
buildings.  In  the  plain  of  St.  Simon,  I  saw  two  superb  pit 
lars,  apparently  part  of  a  portico,  or  gateway,  and  the  village 
of  Dana  is  formed  almost  entirely  of  churches  and  convents, 
of  the  Lower  Empire.  There  were  but  few  inscriptions,  anj 
these  I  could  not  read  ;  but  the  whole  of  this  region  would, 
no  doubt,  richly  repay  an  antiquarian  research.  I  am  told  here 
that  the  entire  chain  of  hills,  which  extends  southward  for 
more  than  a  hundred  miles,  abounds  with  similar  remains,  and 
that,  in  many  places,  whole  cities  stand  almost  entire,  as  if 
recently  deserted  by  their  inhabitants. 

During  the  afternoon,  we  came  upon  a  portion  of  the  ancient 
road  from  Antioch  to  Aleppo,  which  is  still  as  perfect  as  when 
first  constructed.  It  crossed  a  very  stony  ridge,  and  is  much 
the  finest  specimen  of  road-making  I  ever  saw,  quite  putting 
to  sname  the  Appian  and  Flaminian  Ways  at  Rome.  It  is 
twenty  feet  wide,  and  laid  with  blocks  of  white  marble,  from 
two  to  four  feet  square.  It  was  apparently  raised  upon  a  more 
ancient  road,  which  diverges  here  and  there  from  the  line, 
showing  the  deeply-cut  traces  of  the  Roman  chariot-wheels.  In 
the  barren  depths  of  the  mountains  we  found  every  hour 
cisterns  cut  in  the  rock  and  filled  with  water  left  by  the  winter 
rains.  Many  of  them,  however,  are  fast  drying  up,  and  a 
month  later  this  will  be  a  desert  road. 

Towards  night  we  descended  from  the  hills  upon  the  Plain  of 
Keftin,  which  stretches  south-westward  from  Aleppo,  till  th« 
mountain-streams  which  fertilize  it  are  dried  up,  when  it  ia 
merged  into  the  Syrian  Desert.  Its  northern  edge,  along 
which  we  travelled,  is  covered  with  fields  of  wheat,  cotton,  and 
castor-beans.    We  stopped  all  night  at  a  village  called  Taireb, 


APPROACH    TO    ALEPPO.  196 

planted  at  the  foot  of  a  tuinuhi.s,  older  than  tradition.  The 
people  were  in  great  dread  of  the  Aneyzeh  Aral;s,  who  come 
in  from  tlie  Desert  to  destroy  their  harvests  and  carry  off  their 
cattle.  Tlicy  wanted  us  to  take  a  guard,  but  after  our  expe- 
rience on  the  Anti-Lebanon,  we  felt  safer  without  one. 

Yesterday  we  travelled  for  seven  hours  over  a  wide,  rolling 
country,  now  waste  and  barren,  but  formerly  covered  with  wealth 
and  supporting  an  abundant  population,  evidences  of  which  are 
found  in  the  buildings  everywhere  scattered  over  the  hills.  On 
and  on  we  toiled  in  the  heat,  over  this  inhospitable  wilderness, 
and  though  we  knew  Aleppo  must  be  very  near,  yet  we  could 
see  neither  sign  of  cultivation  nor  inhabitants.  Finally,  about 
three  o'clock,  the  top  of  a  line  of  shattered  wall  and  the  points 
of  some  minarets  issued  out  of  the  earth,  several  miles  in  front 
of  us,  and  on  climbing  a  glaring  chalky  ridge,  the  renowned 
city  burst  at  once  upon  our  view.  It  filled  a  wide  hollow  or 
basin  among  the  white  hills,  against  which  its  whiter  houses 
and  domes  glimmered  for  miles,  in  the  dead,  dreary  heat  of  the 
afternoon,  scarcely  relieved  by  the  narrovv  belt  of  gardens  on 
the  nearer  side,  or  the  orchards  of  pistachio  trees  beyond.  In 
the  centre  of  the  city  rose  a  steep,  abrupt  mound,  crowned 
with  the  remains  of  the  ancient  citadel,  and  shining  minarets 
shot  up,  singly  or  in  clusters,  around  its  base.  The  prevailing 
hue  of  the  laniscape  was  a  whitish-gray,  and  the  long,  stately 
city  and  long,  monotonous  hills,  gleamed  with  equal  brilliancy 
under  a  sky  of  cloudless  and  intense  blue.  This  singular 
monotony  of  coloring  gave  a  wonderful  effect  to  the  view, 
which  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  in  all  the  Orient 


198  THE     lJi.NDS     OF    THE     SARACEHT. 


CHAPTER  XY. 

LIFE     IN     ALEPPO. 

Our  Entiir Into  Aleppo—We  are  conducted  to  a  House — Our  Unexpected  Wclorae— Ths 
Mystery  Explained— Aleppo— Its  Name — Its  Situation— The  Trade  of  Alcppc— The 
Christians — The  Revolt  of  1S50— Present  Appearance  of  the  City— Visit  to  Osnian 
Pasha — The  Citadel — View  from  the  Battlements — Society  in  Aleppo — Etiquette  and 
Costume — Jewish  Marriage  Festivities — A  Christian  Marriage  Procession — Ride 
around  the  Town — Nightingales — The  Aleppo  Button— A  Hospital  for  Cats — Ferhat 
Pasha. 

Albppo,  Tuesday,  June  8, 1S52. 

Our  entry  into  Aleppo  was  a  fitting  preliminary  to  our  expe- 
riences during  the  five  days  we  have  spent  here.  After  passing 
a  blackamoor,  who  acted  as  an  advanced  guard  of  the  Custom 
ITouse,  at  a  ragged  tt^nt  outside  of  the  city,  and  bribing  him 
with  two  piastres,  we  crossed  the  narrow  line  of  gardens  ou 
the  western  side,  and  entered  the  streets.  There  were  many 
coffee-houses,  filled  with  smokers,  nearly  all  of  whom  accosted 
ns  in  Turkish,  though  Arabic  is  the  prevailing  language  here. 
Ignorance  made  us  discourteous,  and  we  slighted  every  attempt 
to  open  a  conversation.  Out  of  the  narrow  streets  of  the 
suburbs,  we  advanced  to  the  bazaars,  in  order  to  find  a  khan 
where  we  could  obtain  lodgings.  All  the  best  klians,  however, 
were  filled,  and  we  were  about  to  take  a  very  inferior  room, 
;^hen  a  respectable  individual  came  up  to  Frangois  and  said  : 
"  The  house  is  ready  for  the  travellers,  and  I  will  show  you  the 


AN     UXEXPECTED     WELCOME.  Ht'l 

(ray/'  We  were  a  little  surprised  at  this  address,  but  followed 
Dim  to  a  neat,  quiet  and  pleasant  street  near  the  bazaars, 
where  we  were  ushered  into  a  spacious  court-yard,  with  a  row 
of  apartments  opening  upon  it,  and  told  to  make  ourselves  at 
home. 

The  place  had  evidently  been  recently  inhabited,  for  the 
rooms  were  well  furnished,  with  not  only  divans,  but  beds  iff 
the  Frank  style.  A  lean  kitten  was  scratching  at  one  of  the 
windows,  to  the  great  danger  of  overturning  a  pair  of  narghi- 
•ehs,  a  tame  sea-gull  was  walking  about  the  court,  and  two 
sheep  bloated  in  a  stable  at  the  further  end.  In  the  kitchen 
we  not  only  found  a  variety  of  utensils,  but  eggs,  salt,  pepper, 
and  other  condiments.  Our  guide  had  left,  and  the  only  infor- 
mation we  could  get,  from  a  dyeing  estaljlishment  next  door, 
was  that  the  occupants  had  gone  into  the  country.  "  Take 
the  good  tlie  gods  provide  thee,"  is  my  rule  in  such  cases,  and 
as  we  were  very  hungry,  we  set  Frangois  to  work  at  preparing 
dinner.  We  arranged  a  divan  in  the  open  air,  had  a  table 
brought  out,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  bakers  in  the  bazaar,  anc? 
the  stores  wliich  the  kitchen  supplied,  soon  rejoiced  over  a  very 
palatal)le  meal.  The  romantic  character  of  our  reception  made 
the  dinner  a  merry  one.  It  was  a  chapter  out  of  the  Arabian 
ISights,  and  be  he  genie  or  afrite,  caliph  or  merchant  of  Bas- 
Bora,  into  whose  hands  we  had  fallen,  we  resolved  to  let  the 
adventure  take  its  course.  We  were  just  finishing  a  nonde" 
script  pastry  which  Francois  found  at  a  baker's,  and  which,  for 
want  of  a  better  name,  he  called  merivgun  a  la  Khorassan, 
when  there  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  street  door.  We  felt  at 
Crst  some  little  trepidation,  but  determined  to  maintain  ou* 
phccs,  and  gravely  invite  the  real  master  to  join  us. 


198  THK  LANBS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

It  was  a  female  servant,  however,  who,  to  our  great  amaze- 
ment, made  a  profound  salutation,  and  seemed  delighted  to  see 
OS.  "  My  master  did  not  expect  your  Excellencies  to-day  ;  he 
has  gone  into  the  gardens,  but  will  soon  return.  Will  your 
Excellencies  take  coffee  after  your  dinner  ?"  and  coffee  was 
forthwith  served.  The  old  woman  was  unremitting  in  her 
attentiohs  ;  and  her  son,  a  boy  of  eight  yea^s,  and  the  most 
venerable  child  I  ever  saw,  entertained  us  with  the  description 
of  a  horse  which  his  master  had  just  bought — a  horse  which 
bad  cost  two  thousand  piastres,  and  was  ninety  years  old. 
Well,  this  Aleppo  is  an  extraordinary  place,  was  my  first 
impression,  and  the  inhabitants  are  remarkable  people  ;  but  I 
waited  the  master's  arrival,  as  the  only  means  of  solving  the 
mystery.  About  dusk,  there  was  another  rap  at  the  door.  A 
lady  dressed  in  white,  with  an  Indian  handkerchief  bound  over 
her  black  hair,  arrived.  "Pray  excuse  us,"  said  she;  "we 
thought  you  would  not  reach  here  before  to-morrow  ;  but  my 
brother  will  come  directly."  In  fact,  the  brother  did  come 
soon  afterwards,  and  greeted  us  with  a  still  warmer  welcome. 
"  Before  leaving  the  gardens,"  he  said,  "I  heard  of  your  arri- 
val, and  have  come  in  a  full  gallop  the  whole  way."  In  order 
to  put  an  end  to  this  comedy  of  errors,  I  declared  at  once 
that  he  was  mistaken  ;  nobody  in  Aleppo  could  possibly  know 
of  our  coming,  and  we  were,  perhaps,  transgressing  on  his 
hospitality.  But  no  :  he  would  not  be  convinced.  lie  was  a 
dragoman  to  the  English  Consulate  ;  his  master  had  told  him 
we  would  be  here  the  next  day,  and  he  must  be  prepared  to 
receive  us.  Besides,  the  janissary  of  the  Consulate  had  showed 
ns  the  way  to  his  house.  We,  therefore,  let  the  matter  res< 
nutil  next  morning,  when  we  called  on  Mr.  Very,  the  Consul 


ALEPPO ITS     NAME.  109 

ivlio  informed  us  that  tlie  janissary  had  mistaken  us  for  two 
gentlemen  we  had  met  in  Damascus,  the  travelling  companioua 
of  Lord  Dalkeith.  As  they  had  not  arrived,  he  begged  us  to 
remain  in  the  quarters  which  had  been  prepared  for  them. 
We  have  every  reason  to  be  glad  of  this  mistake,  as  it  has 
made  us  acquainted  with  one  of  the  most  courteous  and  hospi- 
table gentlemen  in  the  East. 

Aleppo  lies  so  far  out  of  the  usual  routes  of  travel,  that  it 
is  rarely  visited  by  Europeans.  One  is  not,  therefore,  as  in  the 
case  of  Damascus,  prepared  beforehand  by  volumes  of  descrip- 
tion, which  preclude  all  possibility  of  mistake  or  surprise.  For 
my  part,  I  only  knew  that  Aleppo  had  once  been  the  greatest 
commercial  city  of  the  Orient,  though  its  power  had  long  since 
passed  into  other  hands.  But  there  were  certain  stately  asso- 
ciations lingering  around  the  name,  which  drew  me  towards  it, 
and  obliged  me  to  include  it,  at  all  hazards,  in  my  Asiatic  tour. 
The  scanty  description  of  Captains  Irby  and  Mangles,  the  only 
one  I  had  read,  gave  me  no  distinct  idea  of  its  position  or 
appearance  ;  and  when,  the  other  day,  I  first  saw  it  looming 
grand  and  gray  among  the  gray  hills,  more  like  a  vast  natural 
crystallization  than  the  product  of  human  art,  I  revelled  in  the 
novelty  of  that  startling  first  impression. 

The  tradition  of  the  city's  name  is  curious,  and  worth 
relating.  It  is  called,  in  Arabic,  Ilaleb  el-Skakba — Aleppo, 
the  Gray — which  most  persons  suppose  to  refer  to  the  prevail- 
ing color  of  the  soil.  Tlie  legend,  however,  goes  much  farther. 
Ilaleb,  which  the  Venetians  and  Genoese  softened  into  Alejipo, 
means  literally  :  "has  milked."  According  to  Arab  tradition, 
whe  patriarch  Abraham  once  lived  here  :  his  tent  being  pitched 
near  the  mound  now  occupied  by  the  citadel.     He  had  a  cer 


200  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

tain  gray  cow  (el-skahha)  which  was  milked  every  moruing  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor.  Wl'en,  therefore,  it  was  proclaimed: 
"Ibrahim  haleh  el-sha/iba"  (Abraham  has  milked  the  gray 
cow),  all  the  poor  of  the  tribe  came  up  to  receive  their  share 
The  repetition  of  this  morning  call  attached  itself  to  the  spot, 
and  became  the  name  of  the  city  which  was  afterwards 
founded. 

Aleppo  is  built  on  the  eastern  slope  of  a  shallow  upland 
basin,  through  which  flows  the  little  River  Koweik.  There 
are  low  hills  to  the  north  and  south,  between  which  the  coun- 
try falls  into  a  wide,  monotonous  plain,  extending  unbroken 
to  the  Euphrates.  The  city  is  from  eight  to  ten  miles  in  cir- 
cuit, and,  though  not  so  thickly  populated,  covers  a  greater 
extent  of  space  than  Damascus.  The  population  is  estimated 
at  100,000.  In  the  excellence  (not  the  elegance)  of  its  archi- 
tecture, it  surpasses  any  Oriental  city  I  have  yet  seen.  The 
houses  are  all  of  hewn  stone,  frequently  three  and  even  four 
stories  in  height,  and  built  in  a  most  massive  and  durable 
style,  on  account  of  the  frequency  of  earthquakes.  The  streets 
are  well  paved,  clean,  with  narrow  sidewalks,  and  less  tortuous 
and  intricate  than  the  bewildering'  alleys  of  Damascus.  A 
large  part  of  the  town  is  occupied  with  bazaars,  attesting  the 
splendor  of  its  former  commerce.  These  establishments  are 
covered  with  lofty  vaults  of  stone,  lighted  from  the  top  ;  and 
one  may  walk  for  miles  beneath  the  spacious  roofs.  The  shops 
exhibit  all  the  stuffs  of  the  East,  especially  of  Persia  and 
India.  There  is  also  an  extensive  display  of  European  fabrics, 
as  the  eastern  provinces  of  Asiatic  Turkey,  as  far  as  Baghdad, 
»re  supplied  entirely  from  Aleppo  and  Trebizond. 

Within  ten  years — in  fact,  since  the  Allied  Powers  drovi 


TRADE     OF     ALEPPO.  201 

Ibrahim  Pasha  out  of  Syria — the  trade  of  Aleppo  has  increased, 
at  the  expense  of  Damascus.  The  tribes  of  tlic  Desert,  who 
were  held  in  check  during  the  Egyptian  occupancy,  are  now 
so  unruly  that  much  of  the  commerce  between  the  latter  place 
nnd  Baghdad  goes  north  ,vard  to  JNIosul,  and  thence  by  a  safer 
road  to  this  city.  The  khans,  of  which  there  are  a  great  num- 
ber, built  on  a  scale  according  with  the  former  magnificence  of 
A-leppo,  are  nearly  all  filled,  and  Persian,  Georgian,  and  Arme- 
nian merchants  again  make  their  appearance  in  the  bazaars. 
The  j)rincipal  manufactures  carried  on  are  the  making  of  shoes 
(which,  indeed,  is  a  prominent  branch  in  every  Turkish  city), 
and  the  weaving  of  silk  and  golden  tissues.  Two  long  bazaars 
are  entirely  occupied  with  shoe-shops,  and  there  is  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  of  confectionery,  embracing  more  varieties 
than  I  ever  saw,  or  imagined  possible.  I  saw  yesterday  the 
operation  of  weaving  silk  and  gold,  which  is  a  very  slow  pro- 
cess. The  warp  and  the  body  of  the  woof  were  of  purple  silk. 
The  loom  only  differed  from  the  old  liand-looms  in  general  use 
in  having  some  thirty  or  forty  contrivances  for  lifting  the 
threads  of  the  warp,  so  as  to  form,  by  variation,  certain  pat- 
terns. Tlie  gold  threads  by  which  the  pattern  was  worked 
were  contained  in  twenty  small  shuttles,  thrust  by  hand  under 
the  different  parcels  of  the  warp,  as  they  were  raised  by  a  boy 
trained  for  that  purpose,  who  sat  on  the  top  of  the  loom.  The 
fabric  was  very  brilliant  in  its  appearance,  and  sells,  as  the 
weavers  informed  me,  at  100  piastres  per  jpik — about  %1  per 
yard. 

We  had  letters  to  Air.  Ford,  an  American  Missionary  estab- 
lished here,  p.nd  Signor  di  Picciotto,  who  acts  as  American 
Vice-Consul.     I>oth  gentlemen  hare  been  very  cordial  ia  theii 


202  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 

offers  of  service,  and  by  their  aid  we  have  been  enabled  to  see 
something  of  Aleppo  life  and  society.  Mr.  Ford,  who  has  been 
here  four  years,  has  a  pleasant  residence  at  Jedaida,  a  Christian 
Buburb  of  the  city.  His  congregation  numbers  some  fifty  or 
sixty  proselytes,  who  are  mostly  from  the  schismatic  sects  of 
the  Armenians.  Dr.  Smith,  who  estabhshed  the  mission  at 
Ain-tab  (two  days'  journey  north  of  this),  where  he  died  last 
year,  was  very  successful  among  these  sects,  and  the  congrega- 
tion there  amounts  to  nine  huudred.  The  Sultan,  a  year  ago, 
issued  a  firman,  permitting  his  Christian  subjects  to  erect 
houses  of  worship  ;  but,  although  this  was  proclaimed  in  CoQ- 
Btantinople  and  much  lauded  in  Europe  as  an  act  of  great 
generosity  and  tolerance,  there  has  been  no  official  promulga- 
tion of  it  here.  So  of  the  aid  whicli  the  Turkish  Government 
was  said  to  have  afforded  to  its  destitute  Christian  subjects, 
whose  houses  were  sacked  during  the  fanatical  rebellion  of  1850. 
The  world  praised  the  Sultan's  charity  and  love  of  justice, 
while  the  sufferers,  to  this  day,  lack  the  first  experience  of  it. 
But  for  the  spontaneous  relief  contributed  in  Europe  and 
among  the  Christian  communities  of  the  Levant,  the  amounl 
of  misery  would  have  been  frightful. 

To  FeridJ  Pasha,  who  is  at  present  the  commander  of  tho 
forces  here,  is  mainly  due  the  credit  of  having  put  down  tho 
rebels  with  a  strong  hand.  There  were  but  few  troops  in  the 
city  at  the  time  of  the  outbreak,  and  as  the  insurgents,  who 
were  composed  of  the  Turkish  and  Arab  population,  were  ia 
league  with  the  Aneyzehs  of  the  Desert,  the  least  faltering  or 
delay  would  have  led  to  a  universal  massacre  of  the  Christians. 
Fortunately,  the  troops  were  divided  into  two  portions,  one 
accupyirg  the  barracks  on  a  hill  north  of  the  city,  and  thr 


ma   KEvoLT   OF  1850,  203 

other,  a  mere  corporal's  guard  of  a  dozen  men,  posted  in  thf; 
citadel.  The  leaders  of  the  outbreak  went  to  the  hitter  and 
offered  him  a  largo  sum  of  money  (the  spoils  of  Cliristian 
houses)  tc  give  up  the  fortress.  With  a  loyally  to  his  duty 
truly  miraculous  among  the  Turks,  he  ordered  his  men  to  fire 
upon  them,  and  they  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  The  quarter  of  tho 
insurgents  lay  precisely  between  the  barracks  and  the  citadel, 
and  by  order  of  Feridj  Pasha  a  cannonade  was  immediately 
opened  on  it  from  both  points.  It  wa.«  not,  however,  until 
many  houses  had  been  battered  down,  and  a  still  larger  number 
destroyed  by  fire,  that  the  rebels  were  brought  to  submission 
Their  allies,  the  Aneyzehs,  appeared  on  tlie  hill  east  of  Aleppo, 
to  the  number  of  five  or  six  thousand,  but  a  few  well-directed 
cannon-balls  told  them  what  thoy  might  expect,  and  they 
speedily  retreated.  Two  or  tiiree  hundred  Christian  families 
lost  nearly  all  of  their  property  daring  the  sack,  and  many 
were  left  entirely  destitute.  The  house  in  which  Mr.  Ford 
lives  was  plundered  of  jewels  and  furniture  to  the  amount  of 
400,000  piastres  ($20,000).  The  robbers,  it  is  said,  were 
amazed  at  the  amount  of  spoil  they  found.  The  Government 
made  some  feeble  efforts  to  recover  it,  but  the  greater  part 
was  already  sold  and  scattered  through  a  thousand  hands,  and 
the  unfortunate  Christians  have  only  received  about  seven  per 
cent,  of  their  loss. 

The  burnt  quarter  has  since  been  rebuilt,  and  I  noticed 
several  Christians  occupying  shops  in  various  parts  oi  it.  Eut 
many  families,  who  fled  at  the  time,  still  remain  in  various 
parts  of  Syria,  afraid  to  return  to  their  homes.  Tlie  Aney/eha 
and  other  Desert  tribes  have  latterly  become  more  daring  thaa 
ever.     Even  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  city,  th(? 


20i  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

inhabitants  are  so  fearful  of  them  that  all  the  grain  is  brought 
cp  to  the  very  walls  to  be  threshed.  The  burying-grounds  oc 
both  sides  are  now  turned  into  threshing-floors,  and  all  day 
long  tho  Turkish  peasants  drive  their  heavy  sleds  around 
among  the  tomb-stones. 

On  the  second  day  after  our  arrival,  we  paid  a  visit  to 
Osman  Pasha,  Governor  of  the  City  and  Province  of  Aleppo. 
We  went  in  state,  accompanied  by  the  Consul,  with  two  janis- 
saries in  front,  bearing  silver  maces,  and  a  didgoraan  behind. 
The  serai,  or  palace,  is  a  large,  plain  wooden  building,  and  a 
group  of  soldiers  about  the  door,  with  a  shabby  carriage  in  the 
court,  were  the  only  tokens  of  its  character.  We  were  ushered 
at  once  into  the  presence  of  the  Pasha,  who  is  a  man  of  about 
seventy  years,  with  a  good-humored,  though  shrewd  face.  lie 
was  quite  cordial  in  his  manners,  complimenting  us  on  our 
Turkish  costume,  and  vaunting  his  skill  in  physiognomy,  vv'hich 
at  once  revealed  to  him  that  we  belonged  to  the  hignest  class 
of  American  nobility.  In  fact,  in  the  firman  which  he  has 
since  sent  us,  we  are  mentioned  as  "  nobles."  He  invited  us 
to  pass  a  day  or  two  with  him,  saying  that  he  should  derive 
much  benefit  from  our  superior  knowledge.  We  replied  that 
such  an  intercourse  could  only  benefit  ourselves,  as  his  greater 
experience,  and  the  distinguished  wisdom  which  had  made  hia 
name  long  since  familiar  to  our  ears,  precluded  the  hope  of  our 
Deing  of  any  service  to  him.  After  half  an  hour's  stay,  during 
which  we  were  regaled  with  jewelled  pipes,  exquisite  Mocha 
coffee,  and  sherbet  breathing  of  the  gardens  of  Giilistan,  we 
took  our  leave. 

The  Pasha  sent  an  officer  to  show  lis  the  citadel.  We 
passed  around  the  moat  to  the  entrance  on  the  western  sido, 


THE     CITADEL.  205 

consisting  of  a  bridge  and  double  gateway.  Tlic  fortress,  as  I 
have  already  stated,  occupies  the  crest  of  an  elliptical  mound, 
about  one  thousand  feet  by  six  hundred,  and  two  hundred  feet 
in  height.  It  is  entirely  encompassed  by  the  city  and  forms  a 
prominent  and  picturesque  feature  in  the  distant  view  thereof. 
Formerly,  it  was  thickly  inhabited,  and  at  the  time  of  the  great 
earthquake  of  1822,  there  were  three  hundred  families  living 
within  the  walls,  nearly  all  of  whom  perished.  The  outer  walla 
were  very  much  shattered  on  that  occasion,  but  the  enormous 
towers  and  the  gateway,  the  grandest  specimen  of  Saracenic 
architecture  in  the  East,  still  remain  entire.  This  gateway,  by 
which  we  entered,  is  colossal  in  its  proportions.  The  outer 
entrance,  through  walls  ten  feet  thick,  admitted  us  into  a  lofty 
vestibule  lined  with  marble,  and  containing  many  ancient 
inscriptions  in  mosaic.  Over  the  main  portal,  which  is  adorned 
with  sculptured  lions'  heads,  there  is  a  tablet  stating  that  the 
fortress  was  built  by  El  Melek  el  Ashraf  (the  Holiest  of 
Kings),  after  which  follows  :  "  Prosperity  to  the  True  Believ- 
ers— Death  to  the  Inlidels  !"  A  second  tablet  shows  that  it 
was  afterwards  repaired  by  Mohammed  ebn-Berkook,  who,  I 
believe,  was  one  of  the  Fatimite  Caliphs.  The  shekh  of  the 
citadel,  who  accompanied  us,  stated  the  age  of  the  structure 
at  nine  hundred  years,  which,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect  the 
Saracenic  chronology,  is  correct,  lie  called  our  attention  to 
numbers  of  iron  arrow-heads  sticking  in  the  solid  masonry — 
the  marks  of  ancient  sieges.  Before  leaving,  we  were  presented 
with  a  bundle  of  arrows  from  the  armory— undoubted  relies 
of  Saracen  warfare. 

The  citadel  is  now  a  mass  of  ruins,  having  been  deserted 
liucc  the  earthquake.     Grass  is  growing  on  the  ramparts,  and 


206  THE  LANDS  OK  THE  SARACEN. 

the  caper  plant,  \vith  its  wbite-and-purple  blossoms,  floarisliefe 
among  the  piles  of  rubbish.  Since  the  late  rebellion,  however 
a  small  military  barrack  has  been  built,  and  two  companies  of 
soldiers  are  stationed  there.  We  walked  around  the  walls, 
which  command  a  magnificent  view  of  the  city  and  the  wide 
plains  to  the  south  and  east.  It  well  deserves  to  rank  v/ith  the 
panorama  of  Cairo  from  the  citadel,  and  that  of  Damascus  from 
the  Anti-Lebanon,  in  extent,  picturesqueuess  and  rich  oriental 
character.  Out  of  the  gray  ring  of  the  city,  which  incloses 
the  mound,  rise  the  great  white  domes  and  the  whiter  minarets 
of  its  numerous  mosques,  many  of  which  are  grand  and  impos- 
ing structures.  The  course  of  the  river  through  the  centre  of 
^he  picture  is  marked  by  a  belt  of  the  greenest  verdure,  beyond 
p/hich,  to  the  west,  rises  a  chain  of  naked  red  hills,  and  still 
further,  fading  on  the  horizon,  the  blue  summit  of  Mt.  St. 
Simon,  and  the  coast  range  of  Akma  Dagh.  Eastward,  over 
vast  orchards  of  pistachio  trees,  the  barren  plain  of  the 
Euphrates  fades  away  to  a  glimmering,  hot  horizon.  Looking 
downwards  on  the' heart  of  the  city,  1  was  surprised  to  see  a 
number  of  open,  grassy  tracts,  out  of  which,  here  and  there, 
small  trees  were  growing.  But,  perceiving  what  appeared  to  be 
subterranean  entrances  at  various  points,  I  found  that  these 
tiacts  were  upon  the  roofs  of  the  houses  and  bazaars,  verifying 
what  I  had  frequently  heard,  that  in  Aleppo  the  inhabitants 
visit  their  friends  in  different  parts  of  the  city,  by  passing  over 
the  roofs  of  the  houses.  Previous  to  the  earthquake  of  1822, 
these  vast  roof-plains  were  cultivated  as  gardens,  and  presented 
ftn  extent  of  airy  bowers  as  large,  if  not  as  magnificent,  as 
the  renowned  Hanging  Gardens  of  ancient  Babylon. 

Accompanied  by  Siguor  di  Picciotto,  we  spent  two  or  three 


SOCIETY-     I.V     ALEPPO.  201 

day-j  in  visiting  tlie  houses  of  tlie  principal  Jewish  and  Chris- 
tian 'aniilies  in  Aleppo.  We  found,  it  is  trne,  no  such  splendor 
as  in  Damascus,  but  more  solid  and  durable  architecture,  and  a 
nioro  chastened  elegance  of  taste.  The  buildings  are  ail  of 
hcwD  stone,  the  court-yards  paved  with  marble,  and  the  walla 
rich  ftith  gilding  and  carved  wood.  Some  of  the  larger  dwell- 
ings Lave  small  but  beautiful  gardens  attached  to  them.  "We 
wer^-  everywhere  received  with  the  greatest  hospitality,  and 
the  risits  were  considered  as  a  favor  rather  than  an  intrusion. 
Indeed,  I  was  frequently  obliged  to  run  the  risk  of  giving 
oCfeuce,  by  declining  the  refreshments  which  were  offered  us. 
Each  round  of  visits  was  a  feat  of  strength,  and  we  wero 
obliged  to  desist  from  sheer  inability  to  support  more  coffee, 
rose-water,  pipes,  and  aromatic  swcetmcits.  The  character  of 
society  in  Aleppo  is  singular  ;  its  very  life  and  essence  is  eti- 
quette. The  laws  which  govern  it  are  more  inviolable  than 
those  of  the  ^Modes  and  Persians.  The  question  of  precedence 
among  the  different  families  is  adjusted  by  the  most  delicate 
scale,  and  rigorously  adhered  to  in  the  most  trifliug  matters. 
Even  we,  humble  voyagers  as  we  are,  have  been  obliged  to 
regulate  our  couduct  according  to  it.  After  our  having  visited 
certain  families,  certain  others  would  have  been  deeply  morti- 
fied had  we  neglected  to  call  upon  them.  Formerly,  when  a 
traveller  arrived  here,  he  was  expected  to  call  upon  the  dif- 
ferent Consuls,  in  the  order  of  their  established  precedence  : 
Ihe  Austrian  first,  English  second,  French  third,  &c.  After 
this,  he  was  obliged  to  stay  at  home  several  days,  to  give  the 
Consuls  an  opportunity  of  returning  the  visits,  which  they 
made  in  the  same  order.  There  was  a  diplomatic  importance 
about    all    his   movements,    and    the    least  violation  of    eti: 


208  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

quettc,  through  ignoraace  or  neglect,  was  the  town  talk  foi 
days. 

This  peculiarity  in  society  is  evidently  a  relic  of  the  forffal 
times,  when  Aleppo  was  a  semi- Venetian  city,  and  the  opulent 
seat  of  Eastern  commerce.  Many  of  the  inhabitants  are 
descended  from  the  traders  of  those  times,  and  they  all  speak 
the  lingua  franca,  or  Levantine  Italian.  The  women  wear  a 
costume  partly  Turkish  and  partly  European,  combining  the 
graces  of  both  ;  it  is,  in  ray  eyes,  the  most  beautiful  dress  in 
the  world.  They  wear  a  rich  scarf  of  some  dark  color  on  tho 
head,  which,  on  festive  occasions,  is  almost  concealed  by  their 
jewels,  and  the  heavy  scarlet  pomegranate  blossoms  which 
adorn  their  dark  hair.  A  Turkish  vest  and  sleeves  of  embroi- 
dered silk,  open  in  front,  and  a  skirt  of  white  or  some  light 
color,  completes  the  costume.  The  Jewesses  wear  in  addition 
a  short  Turkish  cnftan,  and  full  trousers  gathered  at  the  ankles. 
At  a  ball  given  by  ^Mr.  Very,  the  English  Consul,  which  we 
attended,  all  the  Christian  beauties  of  Aleppo  were  present. 
There  was  a  fine  display  of  diamonds,  many  of  the  ladies  wear- 
ing several  thousand  dollars'  worth  on  their  heads.  The  pecu- 
liar etiquette  of  the  place  was  again  illustrated  on  this  occa- 
sion. The  custom  is,  that  the  music  must  be  heard  for  at  least 
one  hour  before  the  guests  come.  The  hour  appointed  was 
eight,  but  when  we  went  there,  at  nine,  nobody  had  arrived. 
As  it  was  generally  supposed  that  the  ball  was  given  on  oui 
account,  several  of  the  families  had  servants  in  the  neighbor- 
hood to  watch  our  arrival  ;  and,  accordingly,  we  had  not  l)eeD 
there  live  minutes  before  the  guests  crowded  through  the  door 
in  large  numbers.  When  the  first  dance  (an  Arab  dance,  per- 
foraied  by  two  ladies  at  a  time)  was  proposed,  the  wives  of  the 


JEWISH    MAEBUGE     FESTIVITIES  209 

French  and  Spanish  Consuls  were  first  led,  or  rather  dragged, 
out.  When  a  lady  is  asked  to  dance,  she  invariably  refuses. 
She  is  asked  a  second  and  a  third  time  ;  and  if  the  gentleman 
does  not  solicit  most  earnestly,  and  use  some  gentle  force  in 
getting  her  upon  the  floor,  she  never  forgives  him. 

At  one  of  the  Jewish  houses  which  we  visited,  the  wedding 
festivities  of  one  of  the  daughters  were  being  celebrated.  We 
were  welcomed  with  great  cordiality,  and  immediately  ushered 
into  the  room  of  state,  an  elegant  apartment,  overlooking  the 
gardens  below  the  city  wall.  Half  the  room  was  occupied  by 
u  laised  platform,  with  a  divan  of  blue  silk  cushions.  Ilere 
the  ladies  reclined,  in  superb  dresses  of  blue,  pink,  and  gold, 
while  the  gentlemen  were  ranged  on  the  floor  l)elow.  They  all 
rose  at  our  entrance,  and  we  were  conducted  to  seats  among 
the  ladies.  Pipes  and  perfumed  drinks  were  served,  and  the 
bridal  cake,  made  of  twenty-six  different  fruits,  was  presented 
on  a  golden  salver.  Our  fair  neighbors,  some  of  whom  literal- 
ly blazed  with  jewels,  were  strikingly  beautiful.  Presently  the 
bride  appeared  at  tlie  door,  and  we  all  rose  and  remained 
standing,  as  she  advanced,  supported  on  each  side  by  the  two 
sheheeniyeh,  or  bridesmaids.  She  was  about  sixteen,  slight  and 
graceful  in  appearance,  though  not  decidedly  beautiful,  and 
was  attired  with  tlie  utmost  elegance,  ller  dress  was  a  pale 
blue  silk,  heavy  with  gold  embroidery;  and  over  her  long  dark 
hair,  her  neck,  bosom,  and  wrists,  played  a  thousand  rainbow 
gleams  from  the  jewels  which  covered  them.  The  Jewish  musi- 
cians, seated  at  the  bottom  of  the  hall,  struck  up  a  loud, 
rejoicing  harmony  on  their  violins,  guitars,  and  dulcimers,  and 
the  women  servants,  grouped  at  the  door,  uttered  in  chorus  tliat 
wild,  shrill  cry,  which  accompanies  all  such  festivals  in  the  Easf 


210  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

The  bride  was  careful  to  preserve  the  decorum  expected  o. 
her  by  speaking  no  word,  nor  losing  the  sad,  resigned  expres 
lion  of  her  countenance.  She  ascended  to  the  divan,  bowed 
to  each  of  us  with  a  low,  reverential  inclination,  and  seated 
oerself  on  the  cushions.  The  rnusic  and  dances  lasted  some 
time,  accompanied  by  the  zugharcet,  or  cry  of  the  women, 
which  was  repeated  with  double  force  when  we  rose  to  take 
leave.  The  whole  company  waited  on  us  to  the  street  door, 
and  one  of  the  servants,  stationed  in  the  court,  shouted  some 
long,  sing-song  phrases  after  us  as  we  passed  out.  I  could  not 
learn  the  words,  but  was  told  that  it  was  an  invocation 
of  prosperity  upon  us,  in  return  for  the  honor  which  our  visit 
had  conferred. 

In  the  evening  I  went  to  view  a  Christian  marriage  proces- 
sion, which,  about  midnight,  conveyed  the  bride  to  the  house 
of  the  bridegroom.  The  house,  it  appeared,  was  too  small  to 
receive  all  the  friends  of  the  family,  and  I  joined  a  large  num- 
ber of  them,  who  repaired  to  the  terrace  of  tlie  English  Con- 
sulate, to  greet  the  procession  as  it  passed.  The  first  persons 
who  appeared  were  a  company  of  buffoons  ;  after  them  four 
janissaries,  carrying  silver  maces  ;  then  the  male  friends,  bear- 
ing colored  lanterns  and  perfumed  torches,  raised  on  gilded 
poles  ;  then  the  females,  among  whom  I  saw  some  beautiful 
Madonna  faces  in  the  torchlight ;  and  finally  the  bride  herself, 
covered  from  head  to  foot  with  a  veil  of  cloth  of  gold,  and 
urged  along  by  two  maidens  :  for  it  is  the  etiquette  of  sucL 
occasions  that  the  bride  should  resist  being  taken,  and  must  be 
forced  every  step  of  the  way,  so  that  she  is  frequently  three 
hours  in  going  the  distance  of  a  mile.  We  watched  the  pro 
cession  a  long  time,  winding  away  through  the  streets — a  lin€ 


MDE    AROUKD    THE    dTY.  211 

of  torches,  and  songs,  and  incense,  and  noisy  jubilee-  -under 
tl'.e  sweet  starlit  heaven. 

The  other  evening.  Signer  di  Picciotto  mounted  us  from  his 
fine  Arabian  stud,  and  we  rode  around  the  city,  outside  of  the 
suburbs.  The  sun  was  low,  and  a  pale  yellow  lustre  touched 
the  clusters  of  minarets  that  rose  out  of  the  stately  masses  of 
buildings,  and  the  bare,  chalky  hills  to  the  north.  After  leav- 
iiig  the  gardens  on  the  banks  of  the  Koweik,  we  came  upon  a 
dreary  waste  of  ruins,  among  which  the  antiquarian  finds 
traces  of  the  ancient  Aleppo  of  the  Greeks,  the  Mongolian  con- 
querors of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  Saracens  who  succeeded 
them.  There  are  many  mosques  and  tombs,  which  were  once 
imposing  specimens  of  Saracenic  art  ;  but  now,  split  and  shivered 
by  wars  and  earthquakes,  are  slowly  tumbling  into  utter  decay. 
On  the  south-eastern  side  of  the  city,  its  chalk  foundations 
have  been  hollowed  into  vast,  arched  caverns,  which  extend 
deep  into  the  earth.  Pillars  have  been  left  at  regular  inter- 
vals, to  support  the  masses  above,  and  their  huge,  dim  laby- 
rinths resemble  the  crypts  of  some  great  cathedral.  They  are 
now  used  as  rope-walks,  and  filled  with  cheerful  workmen. 

Our  last  excursion  was  to  a  country-house  of  Signer  di  Pic- 
ciotto, in  the  Gardens  of  Babala,  about  four  miles  from  Aleppo, 
We  set  out  in  the  afternoon  on  our  Arabians,  with  our  host's 
son  on  a  large  white  donkey  of  the  Baghdad  breed.  Passing 
the  Turkish  cemetery,  where  we  stopped  to  view  the  tomb  of 
General  Bem,  we  loosened  rein  and  sped  away  at  full  gallop 
over  the  hot,  white  hills.  In  dashing  down  a  stony  rise,  the 
ambitious  donkey,  who  was  doing  his  l)est  to  keep  up  with  the 
horses,  fell,  hurling  Master  Picciotto  over  his  head.  The  boy 
was  bruised  a  little,  but  set  his  teeth  together  and  showed  uo 


212  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

sigQ  of  pain,  mounted  again,  and  followed  us.  Tlie  Qardon.s  of 
Babala  are  a  wilderness  of  fruit-trees,  like  those  of  Damascus 
Signor  P.'s  country-house  is  buried  in  a  wild  grove  of  apricot, 
fig,  orange,  and  pomegranate-trees.  A  large  marble  tank,  in 
front  of  the  open,  arched  liican,  supplies  it  with  water.  We 
mounted  to  the  flat  roof,  and  watched  the  sunset  fade  from  the 
beautiful  landscape.  Beyond  the  bowers  of  dazzling  greenness 
which  surrounded  us,  stretched  the  wide,  gray  hills ;  the  mina- 
rets of  Aleppo,  and  the  walls  of  its  castled  mount  shone  rosily 
in  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  ;  an  old  palace  of  the  Pashas,  with 
the  long,  low  barracks  of  the  soldiery,  crowned  the  top  of  a 
hill  to  the  north  ;  dark,  spiry  cypresses  betrayed  the  place  of 
tombs  ;  and,  to  the  west,  beyond  the  bare  red  peak  of  Mount 
St.  Simon,  rose  the  faint  blue  outline  of  Giaour  Dagh,  whose 
mural  chain  divides  Syria  from  the  plains  of  Cilicia.  As  the 
twilight  deepened  over  the  scene,  there  came  a  long,  melodious 
cry  of  passion  and  of  sorrow  from  the  heart  of  a  starry-flowered 
pomegranate  tree  in  the  garden.  Other  voices  answered  it 
from  the  gardens'  around,  until  not  one,  but  fifty  nightingales 
charmed  the  repose  of  the  hour.  They  vied  with  each  other  in 
their  bursts  of  passionate  music.  Each  strain  soared  over  the 
last,  or  united  with  others,  near  and  far,  in  a  chorus  of  the 
divincst  pathos — an  expression  of  sweet,  unutterable,  unquench- 
able longing.  It  was  an  ecstasy,  yet  a  pain,  to  listen. 
"Away  I"  said  Jean  Paul  to  Music  :  "  thou  tellest  me  of  that 
which  1  have  not,  and  never  can  have — which  I  forever  seek, 
and  never  find  1" 

But  space  fails  me  to  describe  half  the  incidents  of  our  stay 
in  Aleppo.  There  are  two  things  peculiar  to  i\\o.  city,  how 
ever,  wliich  I  must  not  omit  mentioning.     One  is  the  Aleppc 


THE  ALEPPO  BUTTON—  CA  a,  213 

Batten,  a  singular  ulcer,  which  attacks  every  person  boru  in 
the  city,  and  every  stranger  who  spends  more  than  a  month 
there.  It  can  neither  be  prevented  nor  cured,  and  ahvajs  laste 
for  a  year.  Tlie  inhabitants  almost  invariably  have  it  on  the 
face — either  on  the  cheek,  forehead,  or  tip  of  the  nose — where 
it  often  leaves  an  indelible  and  disfiguring  scar.  Strangers,  on 
the  contrary,  have  it  on  one  of  the  joints,  either  the  elbow, 
wrist,  knee,  or  ankle.  So  strictly  is  its  visitation  confined  to 
the  city  proper,  that  in  none  of  the  neighboring  villages,  nor 
even  in  a  distant  suburb,  is  it  known.  Physicians  have  vainly 
attempted  to  prevent  it  by  inoculation,  and  are  at  a  loss  to 
what  cause  to  ascribe  it.  "We  are  liable  to  have  it,  even  after 
five  days'  stay  ;  but  I  hope  it  will  postpone  its  appearance 
until  after  I  reach  home. 

The  other  remarkable  thing  here  is  the  Hospital  for  Cats. 
This  was  founded  long  ago  by  a  rich,  cat-loving  Mussulman, 
and  is  one  of  the  best  endowed  institutions  in  the  city.  An 
old  mosque  is  appropriated  to  the  purpose,  under  the  charge 
of  several  directors  ;  and  here  sick  cats  are  nursed,  homeless 
cats  find  shelter,  and  decrepit  cats  gratefully  purr  away  their 
declining  years.  The  whole  category  embraces  several  hundreds, 
and  it  is  quite  a  sight  to  behold  the  court,  the  corridors,  and 
terraces  of  the  mosque  swarming  with  them.  Here,  one  with 
a  bruised  limb  is  receiving  a  cataplasm  ;  there,  a  cataleptic 
jiatient  is  tenderly  cared  for  ;  and  so  on,  through  the  long  con- 
catenation of  feline  diseases.  Aleppo,  moreover,  rejoices  in  a 
greater  number  of  cats  than  even  Jerusalem.  At  a  rough 
guess,  I  should  thus  state  the  population  of  the  city  :  Turks 
and  Arabs.  70,000;  Christians  of  all  denominations,  15,000; 
Jews,  10,000;  dogs,  12,000;  and  cats,  8,000. 


214  THE  LANDS  OF  TH   JARACEN. 

Among  other  persons  whom  I  have  met  here,  is  Ferhat 
Pasha,  formerly  General  Stein,  Hungarian  Minister  of  War 
and  Governor  of  Transylvania.  He  accepted  Mosleraism  with 
Bern  and  others,  and  now  rejoices  in  his  cin;umcision  and  1,000 
piastres  a  month.  He  is  a  fat,  corapanic/nable  sort  of  man, 
who,  by  his  own  confession,  never  labored  very  zealously  for  the 
independence  of  Hungary,  being  an  Austrian  by  birth.  He 
conversed  with  me  for  several  hours  on  the  scenes  in  which  he 
had  participated,  and  attributed  the  failure  of  the  Hungarians 
to  the  want  of  material  means.  General  Bem,  who  died  here, 
is  spoken  of  with  the  utmost  respect,  both  by  Turks  and  Chris- 
tians. The  former  have  honored  him  with  a  large  tomb,  or 
mausoleum,  covered  with  a  dome. 

But  I  must  close,  leaving  half  unsaid.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  no  Oriental  city  has  interested  me  so  profoundly  as  Aleppo, 
and  in  none  have  I  received  such  universal  and  cordi-xl  hospi- 
tality. We  leave  to-morrow  for  Asia  Minor,  having  engaged 
men  and  horses  for  the  whole  route  to  Constautinopie. 


411     INACSPICIOnS    DEPARTTBE.  91C 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THROUGH     THE     SYRIAN     GATES. 

In  Inauspicious  Departure — The  Ruined  Church  of  St.  Simon — The  Plain  of  Antloch— 1 
Turcoman  Encampment — Climbing  Akma  Dagh — The  Syrian  Gates — Scanderoon — Ao 
American  Captain— Revolt  of  the  Koords— We  take  a  Guard— The  Field  of  Ibsus — 
The  Robber-Chief,  Kutchuk  All- A  Deserted  Tovni— A  Land  of  Gardens. 

"  Mountains,  on  whose  barren  breast 
The  lab'ring  clouds  do  often  rest." 

MlLTOK. 

Is  QcARANTiSB(Adana,  Asia  Minor),  T'uesday,  Ju/ne  15, 1953. 

We  left  Aleppo  on  the  morning  of  the  9th,  under  circumstances 
not  the  most  promising  for  the  harmony  of  our  journey.  We 
had  engaged  horses  and  baggage-mules  from  the  capidji,  or 
chief  of  the  muleteers,  and  in  order  to  be  certain  ot  having 
animals  that  would  not  break  down  on  the  way,  made  a  par 
ticular  selection  from  a  number  that  were  brought  us.  When 
about  leaving  the  city,  however,  we  discovered  that  one  of  the 
horses  had  been  changed.  Signer  di  Picciotto,  who  accompa- 
nied us  past  the  Custora-IIouse  barriers,  immediately  dispatched 
the  delinquent  muleteer  to  bring  back  the  true  horse,  and  the 
latter  made  a  farce  of  trying  to  find  him,  leading  the  Consul 
and  the  capidji  (who,  I  believe,  was  at  the  bottom  of  the 
^heat^  a  wild-goose  chase  over  the  hills  around  Aleppo,  where 
of  course,  the  animal  was  not  to  bo  seen.     When,  at  length 


16  TEE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

we  had  waited  three  hours,  and  had  wandered  about  four  miles 
from  the  city,  we  gave  up  the  search,  took  leave  of  the  Consul 
and  went  on  with  the  new  horse.  Our  proper  plan  would  have 
been  to  pitch  the  tent  and  refuse  to  move  till  the  matter  wa3 
settled.  The  animal,  as  we  discovered  during  the  first  day's 
journey,  was  hopelessly  lame,  and  we  only  added  tc  the  diffi- 
culty by  taking  him. 

We  rode  westward  all  day  over  barren  and  stony  hills, 
meeting  with  abundant  traces  of  the  power  and  prosperity  of 
this  region  during  the  times  of  the  Greek  Emperors.  The 
nevastation  wrought  by  earthquakes  has  been  terrible  ;  there 
is  scarcely  a  wall  or  arch  standing,  which  does  not  bear  marks 
of  having  been  violently  shaken.  The  walls  inclosing  the  fig- 
orchards  near  the  villages  contain  many  stones  with  Greek 
inscriptions,  and  fragments  of  cornices.  We  encamped  the 
first  night  on  the  plain  at  the  foot  of  Mount  St.  Simon,  and 
not  far  from  the  ruins  of  the  celebrated  Church  of  the  same 
name.  The  building  stands  in  a  stony  wilderness  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountain.  It  is  about  a  hundred  feet  long  and  thirty 
in  height,  with  two  lofty  square  towers  in  front.  The  pave- 
ment of  the  interior  is  entirely  concealed  by  the  masses  of 
pillars,  capitals,  and  hewn  blocks  that  lie  heaped  upon  it.  The 
windows,  which  are  of  the  tall,  narrow,  arched  form,  common 
in  Byzantine  Churches,  have  a  common  moulding  which  falls 
like  a  mantle  over  and  between  them.  The  general  effect  of 
the  Church  is  very  fine,  though  there  is  much  inelegance  in  the 
sculptured  details.  At  the  extremity  is  a  half-dome  of  massive 
Btone,  over  the  place  of  the  altar,  and  just  in  front  of  this  for- 
merly stood  the  pedestal  whereon,  according  to  tradition, 
St.  Simeon  Stylites  commerced  his  pillar-life.     I  found  a  receul 


THE     PLAIN     OF     AXTIOCH.  211 

excavation  at  the  spot,  but  no  pedestal,  which  has  probably 
been  carried  off  by  the  Greek  monks.  Beside  the  Church 
stands  a  large  building,  with  an  upper  and  lower  balcony,  sup- 
ported by  square  stone  pillars,  around  three  sides.  There  is 
also  a  paved  court-yard,  a  large  cistern  cut  in  the  rock  and 
numerous  out-buildings,  all  going  to  confirm  the  supposition  of 
its  having  been  a  monastery.  The  main  building  is  three 
stories  high,  with  pointed  gables,  and  bears  a  strong  resem- 
blance to  an  American  summer  hotel,  with,  verandas.  Several 
ancient  fig  and  walnut  trees  are  growing  among  the  ruins,  and 
add  to  their  picturesque  appearance. 

The  next  day  we  crossed  a  broad  chain  of  hills  to  the  Plain 
of  Antioch,  which  we  reached  near  its  northern  extremity.  la 
one  of  the  valleys  through  which  the  road  lay,  we  saw  a  num- 
ber of  hot  sulphur  springs,  some  of  them  of  a  considerable 
volume  of  water.  Not  far  from  them  was  a  beautiful  fountain 
of  fresh  and  cold  water  gushing  from  the  foot  of  a  high  rock. 
Soon  after  reaching  the  plain,  we  crossed  the  stream  of  Kara 
Su,  which  feeds  the  Lake  of  Antioch.  This  part  of  the  plain 
is  low  and  swampy,  and  the  streams  are  literally  alive  with  fish. 
While  passing  over  the  bridge  I  saw  many  hundreds,  from  one 
to  two  feet  in  length.  We  wandered  through  the  marshy 
meadows  for  two  or  three  hours,  and  towards  sunset  reached  a 
Turcoman  encampment,  where  the  ground  was  dry  enough  to 
j-itch  onr  tents.  The  rude  tribe  received  us  hospitably,  and 
Bcnt  us  milk  and  cheese  in  abundance.  I  visited  the  tent  of  the 
Shekh,  who  was  very  courteous,  but  as  he  knew  no  language 
but  Turkish,  our  conversation  was  restricted  to  signs.  Tha 
tent  was  of  camel's-hair  cloth,  spacious,  and  open  at  the  sides. 
A  rug  was  spread  for  me,  and  the  Shekh's  wife  brought  me  a 

10 


218  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

pipe  of  tolerable  tobacco.  The  household  were  seated  upon 
the  ground,  chatting  pleasantly  with  one  another,  and  appa/- 
rently  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by  my  presence.  One  of  the 
Shekh's  sons,  who  was  deaf  and  dumb,  came  and  sat  before  me, 
and  described  by  very  expressive  signs  the  character  of  the 
road  to  Scanderoon.  He  gave  me  to  understand  that  there 
were  robbers  in  the  mountains,  with  many  grim  gestures 
descriptive  of  stabbing  and  firing  muskets. 

The  mosquitoes  were  so  thick  during  the  night  that  we  were 
obliged  to  fill  the  tent  with  smoke  in  order  to  sleep.  When 
morning  came,  we  fancied  there  would  be  a  relief  for  us,  but 
it  only  brought  a  worse  pest,  in  the  shape  of  swarms  of  black 
gnats,  similar  to  those  which  so  tormented  me  in  Nubia.  I 
know  of  no  infliction  so  terrible  as  these  gnats,  which  you  can- 
not drive  away,  and  which  assail  ears,  eyes,  and  nostrils  in 
such  quantities  that  you  become  mad  and  desperate  in  your 
efforts  to  eject  them.  Through  glens  filled  with  oleander,  we 
ascended  the  first  slopes  of  Akma  Dagh,  the  mountain  range 
which  divides  the  Gulf  of  Scanderoon  from  the  Plain  of 
Antioch.  Then,  passing  a  natural  terrace,  covered  with 
groves  of  oak,  our  road  took  the  mountain  side,  climbing 
upwards  in  the  shadow  of  pine  and  wild  olive  trees,  and  between 
banks  of  blooming  lavender  and  myrtle.  We  saw  two  or 
three  companies  of  armed  guards,  stationed  by  the  road-side, 
for  the  mountain  is  infested  with  robbers,  and  a  caravan  had 
been  plundered  only  three  days  before.  The  view,  looking 
backward,  took  in  the  whole  plain,  with  the  Lake  of  Antiooh 
glittering  in  the  centre,  the  valley  of  the  Orontes  in  the  south, 
and  the  lofty  cone  of  Djebel  Okrab  far  to  the  west.  Aa 
we  approached  the  summit,  violent  gusts  of  wind  blew  through 


THE     SYRIAN    GATES.  219 

the  pass  with  such  force  as  ahuost  to  overturn  our  Lorsea 
Ilere  the  road  from  Antioch  joins  that  from  Aleppo,  and  both 
for  some  distance  retain  tlie  ancient  pavement. 

From  the  western  side  we  saw  tiie  sea  once  more,  and  went 
down  through  the  Pylce  Syria,  or  Syrian  Gates,  as  tliis  defile 
was  called  by  the  llonians.  It  is  very  narrow  and  rugged, 
with  an  abrupt  descent.  In  an  hour  from  the  summit  we 
came  upon  an  aqueduct  of  a  tri})le  row  of  arches,  crossing  the 
gorge.  It  IS  still  used  to  carry  water  to  the  town  of  Beilan, 
which  hangs  over  the  mouth  of  the  pass,  half  a  mile  below. 
This  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  spots  in  Syria.  The  houses 
cling  to  the  sides  and  cluster  on  the  summits  of  precipitous 
crags,  and  every  shelf  of  soil,  every  crevice  where  a  tree 
can  thrust  its  roots,  upholds  a  mass  of  brilliant  vegetation. 
Water  is  the  life  of  the  i)lace.  It  gushes  into  the  street  from 
exhaustless  fountains  ;  it  trickles  from  the  terraces  in  showers 
of  misty  drops  ;  it  tumbles  into  the  gorge  in  sparkling  streams  ; 
and  everywhere  it  nourishes  a  life  as  bright  and  beautiful 
as  its  own.  Tlie  fruit  trees  are  of  enormous  size,  and  the 
crags  are  curtained  with  a  magnificent  drapery  of  vines.  This 
green  gateway  opens  suddenly  upon  another,  cut  through 
a  glittering  mass  of  micaceous  rock,  whence  one  looks  down  oa 
the  town  and  Gulf  of  Scanderoon,  the  coast  of  Karamania 
beyond,  and  the  distant  snows  of  the  Taurus.  We  descended 
through  groves  of  pine  and  oak,  and  in  three  hours  more 
leached  the  shore. 

Scanderoon  is  the  most  unhealthy  place  on  the  Syrian  Ccast, 
owing  to  the  malaria  from  a  marsh  behind  it.  The  inhabitants 
are  a  wretched  pallid  set,  who  are  visited  every  year  with 
devastating  fevers.     The  marsh  was  partly  drained  some  forty 


220  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

years  ago  by  the  Turkish  government,  and  a  few  thousand 
dollars  would  be  sufBeient  to  remove  it  entirely,  and  make  the 
place— which  is  of  some  importance  as  the  seaport  of  Aleppo — 
healthy  and  habitable.  At  present,  there  are  not  five  hundred 
iflliabitants,  and  half  of  these  consist  of  the  Turkish  garrisoL 
and  the  persons  attached  to  the  different  Yice-Consulates. 
The  streets  are  depositories  of  filth,  and  pools  of  stagnant 
♦vater,  on  all  sides,  exhale  the  most  fetid  odors.  Kear  the 
town  are  the  ruins  of  a  castle  built  by  Godfrey  of  Bouillon. 
We  marched  directly  down  to  the  sea-shore,  and  pitched  our 
tent  close  beside  the  waves,  as  the  place  most  free  from  mala- 
ria. There  were  a  dozen  vessels  at  anchor  in  the  road,  and 
one  of  them  proved  to  be  the  American  bark  Columbia,  Capt. 
Taylor.  We  took  a  skiff  and  went  on  board,  where  we  were 
cordially  welcomed  by  the  mate.  In  the  evening,  the  captain 
came  to  our  tent,  quite  surprised  to  find  two  wandering  Ameri- 
cans in  such  a  lonely  corner  of  the  world.  Soon  afterwards, 
with  true  seaman-like  generosity,  he  returned,  bringing  a  jar 
of  fine  Spanish  olives  and  a  large  bottle  of  pickles,  which  he 
insisted  on  adding  to  our  supplies.  The  olives  have  the 
choicest  Andalusian  flavor,  and  the  pickles  lose  none  of  their 
relish  from  having  been  put  up  in  New  York, 

The  road  from  Scanderoon  to  this  place  lies  mostly  along 
the  shore  of  the  gulf,  at  the  foot  of  Akma  Dagh,  and  is 
reckoned  dangerous  on  account  of  the  marauding  bands  of 
Koords  who  infest  the  mountains.  These  people,  like  the 
Druses,  have  rebelled  against  the  conscription,  and  will  proba- 
bly hold  their  ground  with  equal  success,  though  the  Turka 
talk  loudly  of  invading  their  strongholds.  Two  weeks  ago, 
the  post  was  robbed,  about  ten  miles  from  Scanderoon,  and  a 


WE    TAKE     A     GUARD,  221 

government  vessel,  now  lyinp:  at  anchor  in  the  bay,  opened  a 
cannonade  on  the  jjUuiderers,  l)cfore  they  could  be  secured, 
In  consequence  of  tlie  waruuigs  of  danger  in  everybody's 
mouth,  we  decided  to  take  an  escort,  and  therefore  waited 
npon  the  commander  of  the  forces,  with  the  firman  of  tlie 
Pasha  of  Alcp[io.  A  convoy  of  two  soldiers  was  at  once 
promised  us ;  and  at  sunrise,  next  morning,  they  took  the  lead 
of  our  caravan. 

In  order  to  appear  more  formidable,  in  case  we  should  meet 
with  robbers,  we  put  on  our  Frank  pantaloons,  which  had  no 
other  effect  than  to  make  the  heat  more  intolerable.  But  wo 
formed  rather  a  fierce  cavalcade,  six  armed  men  in  all.  Our 
road  followed  the  shore  of  the  bay,  having  a  narrow,  uninha- 
bited flat,  covered  with  thickets  of  myrtle  and  mastic,  between 
Qs  and  the  mountains.  The  two  soldiers,  more  valiant  than 
the  guard  of  Banias,  rode  in  advance,  and  showed  no  signs  of 
fear  as  we  approached  the  suspicious  places.  The  morning 
was  delightfully  clear,  and  the  snow-crowned  range  of  Taurus 
shone  througli  the  soft  vapors  hanging  over  the  gulf.  In  one 
place,  we  skirted  the  shore  for  some  distance,  under  a  bauk 
twenty  feet  in  height,  and  so  completely  mantled  with  shrub- 
bery, that  a  small  army  might  have  hidden  in  it.  There  were 
guUeys  at  intervals,  opening  suddenly  on  our  path,  and  we 
looked  up  them,  expecting  every  moment  to  see  the  gleam  of  a 
Koordish  gun-barrel,  or  a  Turcoman  spear,  above  the  tops  cf 
the  myrtles. 

Crossing  a  promontory  which  makes  out  from  the  moun- 
tains, we  came  upon  the  renowned  plain  of  Issus,  where  Dariua 
lost  hLs  kingdom  to  Alexander.  On  a  low  cliff  overhanging 
the  sea,  there  are  the  remains  of  a  single  tower  of  gray  stoaa 


222  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

The  people  iu  Scanderoon  call  it  "  Jonah's  Pillar,"  and  say 
that  it  marks  the  spot  where  the  Ninevite  was  cast  ashore  by 
the  whale.  [This  makes  three  places  on  the  Syrian  coast 
where  Jonah  was  vomited  forth.]  The  plain  of  Issus  is  from 
two  to  three  miles  long,  but  not  more  than  half  a  mile  wide. 
It  is  traversed  by  a  little  river,  supposed  to  be  the  Pinarus, 
which  comes  down  through  a  tremendous  cleft  in  the  Akma 
Dagh.  The  ground  seems  too  small  for  the  battle-field  of  such 
armies  as  were  engaged  on  the  occasion.  It  is  bounded  on  the 
north  by  a  low  hill,  separating  it  from  the  plain  of  Baias,  and 
it  is  possible  that  Alexander  may  have  made  choice  of  thia 
position,  leaving  the  unwieldy  forces  of  Darius  to  attack  him 
from  the  plain.  His  advantage  would  be  greater,  on  account 
of  the  long,  narrow  form  of  the  ground,  which  would  prevent 
him  from  being  engaged  with  more  than  a  small  portion  of  the 
Persian  army,  at  one  time.  The  plain  is  now  roseate  with 
blooming  oleanders,  but  almost  entirely  uncultivated.  About 
midway  there  are  the  remains  of  an  ancient  quay  jutting  into 
the  sea. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  field  of  Issus,  we  reached  the  town 
of  Baias,  which  is  pleasantly  situated  on  the  shore,  at  the 
mouth  of  a  river  whose  course  through  the  plain  is  marked 
with  rows  of  tall  poplar  trees.  The  walls  of  the  town,  and  the 
white  dome  and  minaret  of  its  mosque,  rose  dazzlingly  against 
the  dark  blue  of  the  sea,  and  the  purple  stretch  of  the  moun- 
tains of  Karamania.  A  single  palm  lifted  its  crest  in  the  fore- 
ground "We  dismounted  for  breakfast  under  the  shade  of  at 
Did  Lridgc  which  crosses  the  river.  It  was  a  charming  spot, 
the  banks  above  and  below  being  overhung  with  oleander, 
white  rose,  honeysuckle  and  clematis.     The  two  guardsmei 


THE    BOBBER    CHIEF.  223 

fiuishcd  the  remaining  half  of  our  Turcoman  cheest:,  audahnost 
exhausted  our  oupply  of  bread.  I  gave  one  of  them  a  cigar, 
which  he  was  at  a  loss  how  to  smoke,  until  our  muleteer 
showed  him. 

Baias  was  celebrated  fifty  years  ago,  as  the  residence  of  the 
robber  chief,  Kutchuk  Ali,  who,  for  a  long  time,  braved  the 
authority  of  the  Porte  itself.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  levying 
a  yearly  tribute  on  the  caravan  to  Mecca,  and  the  better  to 
enforce  his  claims,  often  suspended  two  or  three  of  his  cai> 
lives  at  the  gates  of  the  town,  a  day  or  two  before  the  caravan 
arrived.  Several  expeditions  were  scut  against  him,  but  he 
always  succeeded  in  bribing  the  commanders,  wlio,  on  their 
return  to  Constantinople,  made  such  representations  that 
Kutchuk  Ali,  instead  of  being  punished,  received  one  dignity 
after  another,  until  finally  he  attained  tlie  rank  of  a  Pasha  of 
two  tails.  This  emboldened  liim  to  commit  enormities  too 
great  to  be  overlooked,  and  in  1812  Baias  was  taken,  and  the 
atrocious  nest  of  land-pirates  broken  up. 

I  knew  that  the  town  had  been  sacked  on  this  occasion,  but 
was  not  prepared  to  find  such  a  complete  picture  of  desolation. 
The  place  is  surrounded  with  a  substantial  wall,  with  two  gate- 
ways, on  the  north  and  south.  A  bazaar,  covered  with  a  lofty 
vaulted  roof  of  stone,  runs  directly  through  from  gate  to  gate ; 
and  there  was  still  a  smell  of  spices  in  the  air,  on  entering. 
The  massive  shops  on  either  hand,  with  their  open  doors, 
invited  possession,  and  might  readily  be  made  habitable  again, 
rtie  great  iron  gates  leading  from  tlie  bazaar  into  the  khana 
and  courts,  still  swing  on  their  rusty  hinges.  We  rode  into 
the  court  of  the  mosque,  which  is  surrounded  with  a  light  and 
elegant  corridor,  supported  by  pillars.     The  grass  has  as  yet 


224  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 

but  partially  invaded  the  marble  pavement,  and  a  stone  drink 
iug-trougli  still  stands  in  the  centre.  I  urged  my  horse  up  the 
steps  and  into  the  door  of  the  mosque.  It  is  in  the  form  of 
a  Greek  cross,  with  a  dome  in  the  centre,  resting  on  four  very 
elegant  pointed  arches.  There  is  an  elaborately  gilded  and 
painted  gallery  of  wood  over  the  entrance,  and  the  pulpit 
opposite  is  as  well  preserved  as  if  the  mollah  had  just  left  it. 
Out  of  the  mosque  we  passed  into  a  second  court,  and  thee 
over  a  narrow  bridge  into  the  fortress.  The  moat  is  perfect, 
and  the  walls  as  complete  as  if  just  erected.  Only  the  bottom 
is  dry,  and  now  covered  with  a  thicket  of  wild  pomegranate 
trees.  The  heavy  iron  doors  of  the  fortress  swung  half  open, 
as  we  entered  unchallenged.  The  interior  is  almost  entire, 
and  some  of  the  cannon  still  lie  buried  in  the  springing  grass. 
The  plan  of  the  little  town,  which  appears  to  have  been  all 
built  at  one  time,  is  most  admirable.  The  walls  of  circuit, 
including  the  fortress,  cannot  bo  more  than  300  yards  square, 
aad  yet  none  of  the  characteristics  of  a  large  Oriental  city  are 
omitted. 

Leaving  Baias,  we  travelled  northward,  over  a  waste, 
though  fertile  plain.  The  mountains  on  our  right  made 
a  grand  appearance,  with  their  feet  mantled  in  myrtle,  and  their 
tops  plumed  with  pine.  They  rise  from  the  sea  with  a  long, 
bold  sweep,  but  each  peak  falls  off  in  a  precipice  on  the  oppo- 
site side,  as  if  the  chain  were  the  barrier  of  the  world  and 
there  was  nothing  but  space  beyond.  In  the  afternoon  we 
left  the  plain  for  a  belt  of  glorious  garden  laud,  made  by 
streams  that  came  down  from  the  mountains.  We  entered  a 
lane  embowered  in  pomegranate,  white  rose,  clematis,  and 
other  flowering  vines  and  shrubs,  and  overarched  by  superV 


A    I^ND     OF     GARDENS.  221) 

plane,  lime,  and  Ijcecli  trees,  chained  together  with  giant  grape 
vines.  On  either  side  were  Gelds  of  ripe  wheat  and  bar- 
ley, mulberry  orchards  and  groves  of  fruit  trees,  under  the 
shade  of  which  tlic  Turkish  families  sat  or  slept  duriug  the 
lioi  h  )urs  of  the  day.  Birds  sang  in  the  boughs,  and  the 
gurgling  of  water  made  a  cool  undertone  to  their  music.  Out 
of  fairyland  where  shall  I  see  again  such  lovely  bowers  ?  "We 
were  glad  when  the  soldiers  announced  that  it  was  necessary 
to  encamp  there  ;  as  we  should  find  no  other  habitations  for 
more  than  twenty  miles. 

Our  tent  Avas  pitched  under  a  grand  sycamore,  beside  a 
Fwift  mountain  stream  which  almost  made  the  circuit  of  oar 
camp.  Beyond  the  tops  of  the  elm,  beech,  and  fig  groves,  we 
saw  the  picturesque  green  summits  of  the  lower  ranges  of 
Giaour  Dagh,  in  the  north-east,  while  over  the  southern 
meadows  a  golden  gleam  of  sunshine  lay  upon  the  Gulf  of 
Scanderoon.  The  village  near  us  was  Chaya,  where  there  is  a 
military  station.  The  guards  we  had  brought  from  Scan- 
deroon here  left  us  ;  but  the  commanding  officer  advised  us  tc 
take  others  on  the  laorrow,  as  the  road  was  still  considered 
unsafe. 


10» 


S26  THE     LANDS     OV    THE     »AJeUC£K. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ADANA     AND    TARSUS. 

Hie  Black  Gate— The  Plain  of  Cilicia— A  Koord  Village— Missis— CUlcian  Scenery- 
Arrival  at  Adana — Three  days  in  Quarantine — We  receive  Pratique — A  Landscape— 
The  Plain  of  Tarsus — The  River  Cydnus — A  Vision  of  Cleopatra — Tarsus  and  lU 
Environs — The  DuniJitash — The  Moon  of  Raraazan. 

•*  Paul  said,  I  am  a  man  which  am  a  Jew  of  Tarsus,  a  city  in  Cilicia,  a  citizen  of  no 
mean  city." — Acts,  xxi.  89. 

Kbak  on  Mt.  Ta0ru3,  Saturday,  June  19, 1852. 

We  left  our  camp  at  Chaya  at  dawn,  with  an  escort  ot  three 
soldiers,  which  we  borrowed  from  the  guard  stationed  at  that 
place.  The  path  led  along  the  shore,  through  chimps  of 
myrtle  beaten  inland  by  the  wind,  and  rounded  as  smoothly  as 
if  they  had  been  clipped  by  a  gardener's  shears.  As  we 
approached  the  head  of  the  gulf,  the  peaked  summits  of  Giaour 
Dagh,  10,000  feet  in  height,  appeared  in  the  north-east.  The 
streams  we  forded  swarmed  with  immense  trout.  A  brown 
hedgehog  ran  across  our  road,  but  when  I  touched  him  with 
the  end  of  my  pipe,  rolled  himself  into  an  impervious  ball  of 
prickles.  Soon  after  turning  the  head  of  the  gulf,  the  road 
Bwerved  off  to  the  west,  and  entered  a  narrow  pass,  between 
hills  covered  with  thick  copse-wood.  Here  we  came  upon  ac 
ancient  gateway  of  black  lava  stone,  which  bears  marks  of 


THE     PLAIN     OF     CILICIA. 


22T 


great  antiquity  It  is  now  called  Kara  Kapu,  the  "  Black 
Gate,"  and  some  suppose  it  to  have  been  one  of  the  ancient 
gates  of  Cilicia, 

Beyond  this,  our  road  led  over  high,  grassy  hills,  without  u 
sign  of  human  habitation,  to  the  ruined  khan  of  Koord  Koolak. 
We  dismounted  and  unloaded  our  baggage  in  the  spacious 
Btone  archway,  and  drove  our  beasts  into  the  dark,  vaulted 
halls   behind.     The   building   was   originally  intended  for   a 
magazine  of  supplies,  and  from  the  ruined  mosque  near  it,  1 
suspect  it  was  formerly  one  of  the  caravan  stations  for  the 
pilgrims   from  Constantinople  to  Mecca.     The  weather   was 
intensely  hot  and  sultry,  and  our  animals  were  almost  crazy 
from  the  attacks  of  a  large  yellow  gad-fly.     After  the  noonday 
heat  was  over  we  descended  to  the  first  Cllician  plain,  which  is 
bounded  on  the  west  by  the  range  of  Durdun  Dagh.     As  we 
had  now  passed  the  most  dangerous  part  of  the  road,  we  dis- 
missed the  three  soldiers  and  took  but  a  single  man  with  us. 
The  entire  plain  is  covered  with  wild  fennel,  six  to  eight  feet  in 
height,    and   literally  blazing  with   its   bloomy   yellow    tops. 
Riding  through  it,  I  could  barely  look  over  them,  and  far  and 
wide,  on  all  sides,  spread  a  golden  sea,  out  of  which  the  long 
violet   hills   rose  with  the   loveliest  effect.      Brown,   shining 
serpents,  from  four  to  six  feet  in  length,  frequently  slid  across 
our  path.     The  plain,  which  must  be  sixty  miles  in  circurafc' 
rence,  is  wholly  uncultivated,  though  no  land  could  possibly  be 
richer. 

Out  of  the  region  of  fennel  we  passed  into  one  of  red  and 
white  clover,  timothy  grass  and  wild  oats.  The  thistles  were 
so  large  as  to  resemble  young  palm-trees,  and  the  salsiy  of  our 
gardens  grew  rank  and  wild.     At  length  we  dipped  into  the 


228  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN". 

evening  shadow  of  Dnrdun  Dagh,  and  reached  the  village  ot 
Koord  Keni,  on  his  lower  slope.  As  there  was  no  place  foi 
our  tent  ou  the  rank  grass  of  the  plain  or  the  steep  side  of  the 
hill,  we  took  forcible  possession  of  the  winnowing-floor,  a  flai 
terrace  built  up  under  two  sycamores,  and  still  covered  with 
the  chaff  of  the  last  threshing.  The  Koords  took  the  whole 
thing  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  even  brought  us  a  felt  carpet 
to  rest  upon.  They  came  and  seated  themselves  around  us, 
chatting  sociably,  while  we  lay  in  the  tent-door,  smoking  the 
pipe  of  refreshment.  The  view  over  the  wide  golden  plain, 
and  the  hills  beyond,  to  the  distant,  snow-tipped  peaks  of 
Akraa  Dagh,  was  superb,  a^  the  shadow  of  the  mountain  behind 
us  slowly  lengthened  over  it,  blotting  out  the  mellow  lights  of 
sunset.  There  were  many  fragments  of  pillars  and  capitals  of 
v/hite  marble  built  up  in  the  houses,  showing  that  they  occu- 
pied the  site  of  some  ancient  village  or  temple. 

The  next  morning,  we  crossed  Durdun  Dagh,  and  entered 
the  great  plain  of  Cilicia.  The  range,  after  we  had  passed  it, 
presented  a  grand,  bold,  broken  outline,  blue  in  the  morning 
vapor,  and  wreathed  with  shifting  belts  of  cloud.  A  stately 
castle,  called  the  Palace  of  Serpents,  on  the  summit  of  an 
isolated  peak  to  the  north,  stood  out  clear  and  high,  in  the 
midst  of  a  circle  of  fog,  like  a  phantom  picture  of  the  air.  Tho 
River  Jyhoon,  the  ancient  Pyramus,  which  rises  on  the  border.*? 
of  Armenia,  sweeps  the  western  base  of  the  mountains.  It  is 
a  larger  stream  than  the  Orontes,  with  a  deep,  rapid  current, 
flowing  at  the  bottom  of  a  bed  lower  than  the  level  of  the 
plain.  In  three  hours,  we  reached  Missis,  the  ancient  Mop- 
Buestia,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river.  There  are  extensive 
ruins  on  tbo  left  bank,  which  were  probably  those  of  the  for 


ARRIVAL     AT     ADANA. 

iner  city.  The  soil  for  some  distance  aroand  is  scattered  with 
broken  pillars,  capitals,  and  hewn  stones.  The  ancient  biidge 
still  crosses  the  rivei',  but  the  central  arch  having  been  broken 
away,  is  replaced  with  a  wooden  platform.  The  modern  towL 
is  a  forlorn  place,  and  all  the  glorious  plain  around  it  is  uncul- 
tivated. The  view  over  this  plain  was  magniflccnt:  unbounded 
towards  the  sea,  but  on  the  north  girdled  by  the  sublime  range 
of  Taurus,  whose  great  snow-fields  gleamed  in  the  son.  In  tho 
afternoon,  we  reached  the  old  bridge  over  the  Jyhoon,  at 
Adana.  The  eastern  bank  is  occupied  witli  the  graves  of  the 
former  inhabitants,  and  there  are  at  least  fifieen  acres  of  tomb- 
Btones,  as  thickly  planted  as  the  graves  can  be  dug.  The  fields 
of  wheat  and  barley  along  the  river  are  very  rich,  and  at  pre- 
sent the  natives  are  bnsily  occupied  in  drawing  the  sheaves  on 
large  sleds  to  the  open  threshing-floors. 

The  city  is  built  over  a  low  eminence,  and  its  four  tall  mina- 
rets, with  a  number  of  palm-trees  rising  from  the  mass  of 
brown  brick  walls,  reminded  me  of  Egypt.  At  the  end  of  the 
bridge,  we  were  met  by  one  of  the  Quarantine  officers,  who 
preceded  us,  taking  care  that  we  touched  nobody  in  the  streets, 
to  the  Quarantine  building.  This  land  quarantine,  between 
Syria  and  Asia  Minor,  when  the  former  country  is  free  from 
any  epidemic,  seems  a  most  absurd  thing.  We  were  detained 
at  Adana  three  days  and  a  half,  to  be  purified,  before  proceed- 
ing further.  Lately,  the  whole  town  was  placed  in  quarantine 
for  five  days,  because  a  Turkish  Bey,  who  lives  near  Baias, 
entered  the  gates  without  being  noticed,  and  was  found  in  the 
bazaars.  The  Quarantine  building  was  once  a  palace  of  the 
Pashas  of  Adana,  but  is  now  in  a  half-rained  condition.  The 
rooms  are  large  and  airy,  and  there  is  a  spacious  open  divap 


330  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

which  aflforda  ample  shade  and  a  cool  breeze  throughout  the 
whole  day.  Fortunately  for  us,  there  were  only  three  persona 
in  Quarantine,  who  occupied  a  room  distant  from  ours.  The 
Inspector  was  a  very  obliging  person,  and  procured  us  a  table 
and  two  chairs.  The  only  table  to  be  had  in  the  whole  place— 
a  town  of  15,000  inhabitants — belonged  to  an  Italian  merchant, 
who  kindly  gave  it  for  our  use.  We  employed  a  messenger  to 
purchase  provisions  in  the  bazaars ;  and  our  days  passed 
quietly  in  writing,  smoking,  and  gazing  indolently  from  our 
windows  upon  the  flowery  plains  beyond  the  town.  Our  nights, 
however,  were  tormented  by  small  white  gnats,  which  stung  us 
unmercifully.  The  physician  of  Quarantine,  Dr.  Spagnolo,  is  a 
Venetian  refugee,  and  formerly  editor  of  La  Lega  Italiana,  a 
paper  published  in  Venice  during  the  revolution.  He  informed 
us  that,  except  the  Princess  Belgioioso,  who  passed  through 
Adana  on  her  way  to  Jerusalem,  we  were  the  only  travellers 
he  had  seen  for  eleven  months. 

After  three  days  and  four  nights  of  grateful,  because  invo> 
'untary,  indolence,  Dr.  Spagnolo  gave  us  j)ratigue,  and  we  lost 
no  time  in  getting  under  weigh  again.  We  were  the  only 
occupants  of  Quarantine  ;  and  as  we  moved  out  of  the  portal 
of  the  old  serai,  at  sunrise,  no  one  was  guarding  it.  The 
Inspector  and  Mustapha,  the  messenger,  took  their  back- 
sheeshes  with  silent  gratitude.  The  plain  on  the  west  side  of 
the  town  is  well  cultivated ;  and  as  we  rode  along  towarda 
Tarsus,  I  was  charmed  with  the  rich  pastoral  air  of  the 
scenery.  It  was  like  one  of  the  midland  landscapes  of  Eng- 
land, bathed  in  Southern  sunshine.  The  beautiful  level, 
stretching  away  to  the  mountains,  stood  golden  with  the  fields 
of  wheat  which  the  reapers  were  cutting.     It  was  no  longer 


THE    ROAD    TO    TARSU3.  23  . 

bare,  but  dotted  with  orange  groves,  clumps  of  holly,  and  a 
number  of  magnificent  terebinth-trees,  whose  dark,  rounded 
masses  of  foliage  remind  one  of  the  Xorthern  oak.  Cattle 
were  grazing  in  the  stul>ble,  and  horses,  almost  buried  under 
loads  of  fresh  grass,  met  us  as  they  passed  to  the  city.  The 
sheaves  were  drawn  to  the  threshing-floor  on  sleds,  and  Tre 
could  see  the  husbandmen  in  the  distance  treading  out  and 
winnowing  the  grain.  Over  these  bright,  busy  scenes,  rose 
the  lesser  heights  of  the  Taurus,  and  beyond  them,  mingled  in 
white  clouds,  the  snows  of  the  crowning  range. 

The  road  to  Tarsus,  which  is  eight  hours  distant,  lies  over  an 
unbroken  plain.  Towards  the  sea,  there  are  two  tumuli,  resem- 
bling those  on  the  plains  cast  of  Antioch.  Stone  wells,  with 
troughs  for  watering  horses,  occur  at  intervals  of  three  or  four 
miles  ;  but  there  is  little  cultivation  after  leaving  the  vicinity 
of  Adana.  The  sun  poured  down  an  intense  summer  heat,  and 
hundreds  of  large  gad-flies,  swarming  around  us,  drove  the 
horses  wild  with  their  stings.  Towards  noon,  we  stopped 
at  a  little  village  for  breakfast.  We  took  possession  of  a 
Bhop,  which  the  good-natured  merchant  offered  us,  and  were 
about  to  spread  our  provisions  upon  the  counter,  when  the 
gnats  and  mosquitoes  fairly  drove  us  away.  We  at  once  went 
forward  in  search  of  a  better  place,  which  gave  occasion  to  our 
chief  mukkairee,  Hadji  Youssuf,  for  a  violent  remonstrance 
The  terms  of  the  agreement  at  Aleppo  gave  the  entire  control 
of  the  journey  into  our  own  hands,  and  the  Iladji  now  sought 
to  violate  it.  He  j^rotested  against  our  travelling  more  than 
six  hours  a  day,  and  conducted  himself  so  insolently,  that  we 
threatened  to  take  him  before  the  Pasha  of  Tarsus.  This 
sUenced  him  for  the  time  ;  but  we  bate  him  so  cordially  sine* 


232  THE  LAXD3  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

then,  that  I  foresee  we  shall  have  more  trouble.  In  the  after- 
noon, a  gust,  sweeping  along  the  sides  of  Taurus,  cooled  the  air 
and  afforded  us  a  little  relief. 

By  three  o'clock  we  reached  the  River  Cydnus^  which  h 
bare  of  trees  on  its  eastern  sice,  but  flows  between  bai.ks 
covered  with  grass  and  shrubs.  It  is  still  spanned  by  the 
ancient  bridge,  and  the  mules  now  step  in  the  hollow  ruts  worn 
long  ago  by  Roman  and  Byzantine  chariot  wheels.  The  stream 
is  not  more  than  thirty  yards  broad,  but  has  a  very  full  and 
rapid  current  of  a  bluish-white  color,  from  the  snows  which  feed 
it.  I  rode  down  to  the  brink  and  drank  a  cup  of  the  water. 
It  was  exceedingly  cold,  and  I  do  not  wonder  that  a  bath  in  it 
should  have  killed  the  Emperor  Barbarossa.  From  the  top  of 
the  bridge,  there  is  a  lovely  view,  down  the  stream,  where  it 
washes  a  fringe  of  willows  and  heavy  fruit-trees  on  its  western 
bank,  and  then  winds  away  through  the  grassy  plain,  to  the 
sea.  For  once,  my  fancy  ran  parallel  with  the  inspiration  of  the 
scene.  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  the  galley  of  Cleopatra 
slowly  stemming  the  current  of  the  stream,  its  silken  sails  filled 
with  the  sea-breeze,  its  gilded  oars  keeping  time  to  the  flutes, 
whose  voluptuous  melodies  floated  far  out  over  the  vernal 
meadows.  Tarsus  was  probably  almost  hidden  then,  as  now, 
by  its  gardens,  except  just  where  it  touched  the  river  ;  and  the 
dazzling  vision  of  the  Egyptian  Queen,  as  she  came  up  con- 
quering and  to  conquer,  must  have  been  all  the  more  bewilder- 
ing, from  the  lovely  bowers  through  which  she  sailed. 

From  the  bridge  an  ancient  road  still  leads  to  the  old 
Dyzantine  gate  of  Tarsus.  Part  of  the  town  is  encompassed 
by  a  wall,  built  by  the  Caliph  Harouu  Al-Rascliid,  and  there 
is  a  ruined  fortress,  which  is  attributed  to  Saltan  Bajazet 


TARSUS.  233 

Small  streams,  brought  from  the  Cydnus,  traverse  the  anvirong, 
and,  with  such  a  fertile  soil,  the  luxuriance  of  the  gardens  in 
which  tlie  city  lies  buried  is  almost  incredible.  In  our  ramble? 
in  search  of  a  place  to  pitch  the  tent,  we  entered  a  su[)erh 
orange-orchard,  the  foliage  of  which  made  a  perpetual  twilight. 
Many  of  the  trunks  were  two  feet  in  diameter.  The  houses 
are  mostly  of  one  story,  and  the  materials  are  almost  wholly 
borrowed  from  the  ancient  city.  Pillars,  capitals,  fragments 
of  cornices  and  entablatures  abound.  I  noticed  here,  as  in 
A-daaa,  a  high  wooden  frame  on  the  top  of  every  house,  raised 
a  few  steps  above  the  roof,  and  covered  with  light  muslin,  like 
a  portable  bathing-house.  Here  the  people  put  up  their  beds 
in  the  evening,  sleep,  and  come  down  to  the  roofs  in  the  morn- 
ing— an  excellent  plan  for  getting  better  air  in  these  malarious 
plains  and  escaping  from  fleas  and  mosquitoes.  In  our  search 
for  the  Armenian  Church,  which  is  said  to  have  been  founded 
by  St.  Paul  ("Saul  of  Tarsus"),  we  came  upon  a  mosque, 
which  had  been  originally  a  Christian  Church,  of  Greek  times. 
From  the  top  of  a  mound,  whereupon  stand  the  remains  of  an 
ancient  circular  edifice,  we  obtained  a  fine  view  of  the  city  and 
plain  of  Tarsus.  A  few  houses  or  clusters  of  houses  stood 
here  and  there  like  reefs  amid  the  billowy  green,  and  the  mina- 
rets— one  of  them  with  a  nest  of  young  storks  on  its  very 
summit — rose  like  the  masts  of  sunken  ships.  Some  palms 
lifted  their  tufted  heads  from  the  gardens,  beyond  which  the 
great  plain  exi  ended  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea.  The 
tumulus  near  Mersyn,  the  port  of  Tarsus,  was  plainly  visible. 
Two  hours  from  Mersyn  are  the  ruins  of  Pompeiopolis,  the 
name  given  by  Pompcy  to  the  town  of  Soli,  after  his  conquest 
of  the  Cilician  pirates.     From  Soli,  on  account  of  tbe  bad 


234  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Greek  spoken  by  its  inhabitants,  came  the  term  "  solecism." 
The  ruins  of  Pompeiopolis  consist  of  a  theatre,  temples,  and  a 
number  of  houses,  still  in  good  preservation.  The.  wholo 
coast,  as  far  as  Aleya^  three  hundred  miles  west  of  this,  is  said 
to  abound  with  ruined  cities,  and  I  regret  exceedingly  that 
time  will  not  permit  me  to  explore  it. 

While  searching  for  the  antiquities  about  Tarsus,  I  accosted 
a  man  in  a  Frank  dress,  who  proved  to  be  the  Neapolitan 
Consul.  He  told  us  that  the  most  remarkable  relic  was  the 
Duniktash  (the  Round  Stone),  and  procured  us  a  guide.  It 
lies  in  a  garden  near  the  city,  and  is  certainly  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  monuments  in  the  East.  It  consists  of  a  square 
inclosure  of  solid  masonry,  350  feet  long  by  150  feet  wide,  the 
walls  of  which  are  eighteen  feet  in  thickness  and  twenty  feet 
high.  It  appears  to  have  been  originally  a  solid  mass,  without 
entrance,  but  a  passage  has  been  broken  in  one  place,  and  in 
another  there  is  a  split  or  fissure,  evidently  produced  by  an 
earthquake.  The  material  is  rough  stone,  brick  and  mortar. 
Inside  of  the  inclosure  are  two  detached  square  masses  of 
masonry,  of  equal  height,  and  probably  eighty  feet  on  a  side, 
without  opening  of  any  kind.  One  of  them  has  been  pierced 
at  the  bottom,  a  steep  passage  leading  to  a  pit  or  well,  but  the 
sides  of  the  passage  thus  broken  indicate  that  the  whole  struc- 
ture is  one  solid  mass.  It  is  generally  supposed  that  they 
were  intended  as  tombs  :  but  of  whom  ?  There  is  no  sign  by 
which  they  may  be  recognized,  and,  what  is  more  singular,  no 
tradition  concerning  them. 

The  day  we  reached  Tarsus  was  the  first  of  the  Turkish  fast- 
month  of  llamazan^  the  inhabitants  having  seen  t'le  new  moon 
the.  night  before.     At  Adana,  where  they  did  not  keep  such  a 


THE    yOON     OF    RAMAZAN. 


235 


close  look-oat,  tlie  fast  had  not  commenced.     Daring  its  con- 
tinuance, which  is  from  twenty-eight  to  twenty-nine  days,  nc- 
Mussulmaa  dares  eat,  drJi\k,  or  smoke,  from  an  hour  before 
sunrise   till   half  an   hour   after   sunset.     The   Mohammedao 
months  are  lunar,  and  each  month  makes  the  whole  round  of 
the  seasons,  once  in  thirty-three  years.     When,  therefore,  tlie 
Raraazan  comes  in  midsummer,  as  at  present,  the  fulfilment  of 
this  fast  is  a  great  trial,  even  to  the  strongest  and  most  devout. 
Eighteen  hours  without  meat  or  drink,  and  what  is  still  worse 
to  a  genuine  Turk,  without  a  pipe,  is  a  rigid  test  of  faith. 
The  rich  do  the  best  they  can  to  avoid  it,  by  feasting  all  night 
and  sleeping  all  day,  but  the  poor,  who  must  perform  their 
daily  avocations,  as  usual,    suffer   exceedingly.     In  walking 
through  Tarsus  I  saw  many  wretched  faces  in  the  bazaars,  and 
the  guide  who  accompanied  us  had  a  painfully  famished  air. 
Fortunately  the  Koran  expressly  permits  invalids,  children,  and 
travellers  to  disregard  the  fast,  so  that  although  we  eat  and 
drink  when  we  like,  we  are  none  the  less  looked  upon  as  good 
Mussulmans.     About  dark  a  gun  is  fired  and  a  rocket  sent  up 
from  the  mosque,  announcing  the  termination  of  the  day's  fast. 
The  meals  are  already  prepared,   the  pipes  filled,  the  coffee 
smokes  in  the  Jinjans,  and  the  echoes  have  not  died  away  nor 
the  last  sparks  of  the  rocket  become  extinct,  before  half  the 
inhabitants  are  satisfying  their  hunger,  thirst  and  smoke-lust. 

We  left  Tarsus  this  morning,  and  are  now  encamped  among 
the  pines  of  Mount  Taurus.  The  last  Qush  of  sunset  is  fading 
from  his  eternal  snows,  and  I  drop  my  pen  to  enjoy  the  silence 
of  twilight  in  this  mountain  sohtude. 


23a  THE    LANDS    OF    THE    SARACliN. 


CHAPTER    XYIII. 

THE    PASS    OP    MOUNT    TAURUS. 

Vre  enter  the  Taurus — Turcomans — Forest  Scenery — the  Palace  of  Pan—  Khan  M^z%^ 
luk— Morning  among  the  Mountains— The  Gorge  of  the  Cydnus— The  Cra  -  of  th« 
Fortress— The  Cilician  Gate — Deserted  Forts — A  Sublime  Landscape — The  Gorge  of  tho 
Sihoon — The  Second  Gate— Camp  in  the  Defile— Sunrise— Journey  up  the  Sihoon— A 
Change  of  Scenery— A  Pastoral  Valley — Kolii  Kushla— A  Deserted  Khan— A  Guest  in 
Ramazan — Flowers — The  Plain  of  Karamanla— Barren  UiUs — The  Town  of  Eregll— 
The  Hadji  again. 

"  Lo !  where  the  pass  expands 
Its  stony  jaws,  the  abrupt  mountain  breaks, 
And  seems,  with  its  accumulated  crags, 
To  overhang  the  world."  Sbtellkt. 

Ereoli,  in  Karamania,  June,  22,  1853. 

Striking  our  teut  in  the  gardens  of  Tarsus,  we  again  crossed 
the  Cydaus,  and  took  a  northern  course  across  the  plain.  Tht 
long  line  of  Taurus  rose  before  us,  seemingly  divided  into  four 
successive  ranges,  the  highest  of  which  was  folded  in  clouds  ; 
only  the  long  streaks  of  snow,  filling  the  ravines,  being  visible. 
The  outlines  of  these  ranges  were  very  fine,  the  waving  line 
of  the  summits  cut  here  and  there  by  precipitous  gorges — the 
gateways  of  rivers  that  came  down  to  the  plain.  In  about  two 
hours,  we  entered  the  lower  hills.  They  are  barren  and  atony, 
with  a  white,  chalky  soil  ;  but  the  valleys  were  filled  with 
myrtle,  oleander,  and  lauristinus  in  bloom,  and  lavender  grei 


THE    OLEANIER — TURCOMANS.  231 

In  great  profusion  on  the  hill-sides.  The  flowers  c»f  the  clean 
fler  gave  out  a  delicate,  almond-like  fragrance,  and  grew  in 
such  dense  clusters  as  frequently  to  hide  the  foliage.  1  amused 
myself  with  finding  a  derivation  of  the  name  of  this  beantiful 
plant,  which  may  answer  until  somebody  discovers  a  better  one. 
Hero,  when  the  corpse  of  her  lover  was  cast  ashore  by  the 
waves,  buried  him  under  an  oleander  bush,  where  she  waa 
accustomed  to  sit  daily,  and  lament  over  his  untimely  fate. 
Now,  a  foreign  horticulturist,  happening  to  pass  by  when  the 
shrub  was  in  blossom,  was  much  struck  with  its  beauty,  and 
asked  Hero  what  it  was  called.  But  she,  absorbed  in  grief, 
and  thinking  only  of  her  lover,  clasped  her  hands,  and  sighed 
out:  "0  Leander  !  0  Leander !"  which  the  horticulturist 
immediately  entered  in  his  note-book  as  the  name  of  the  shrub ; 
and  by  that  name  it  is  known,  to  the  present  time. 

For  two  or  three  hours,  the  scenery  was  rather  tame,  the 
higher  summits  being  obscured  with  a  thunder-cloud.  Towards 
noon,  however,  we  passed  the  first  chain,  and  saw,  across  a 
strip  of  rolling  land  intervening,  the  grand  ramparts  of  the 
second,  looming  dark  and  large  under  the  clouds.  A  circular 
watch-tower  of  white  stone,  standing  on  the  summit  of  a  pro- 
montory at  the  mouth  of  a  gorge  on  our  right,  flashed  out 
boldly  against  the  storm.  We  stopped  under  an  oak-tree  to 
take  breakfast ;  but  there  was  no  water  ;  and  two  Turks,  who 
were  resting  while  their  horses  grazed  in  the  meadow,  told  us 
vre  should  find  a  good  spring  half  a  mile  farther.  We  ascended 
a  leng  slope,  covered  with  wheat-fields,  where  numbers  of  Tur- 
coman reapers  were  busy  at  work,  passed  their  black  tents, 
Burrounded  with  droves  of  sheep  and  goats,  and  reached  a  rude 
stone  fountain  cf  good  water,  where  two  companies  of  these 


238  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

people  had  stopped  to  rest,  on  their  way  to  the  mont  taius.  It 
was  the  time  of  noon  prayer,  and  they  went  through  theii 
devotions  with  great  solemnity.  We  nestled  deep  in  a  bed  of 
myrtles,  while  we  breakfasted  ;  for  the  sky  was  clouded,  and  the 
wind  blew  cool  and  fresh  from  the  region  of  rain  above  us. 
Some  of  the  Turcomans  asked  us  for  bread,  and  were  very 
grateful  when  we  gave  it  to  them. 

In  the  afternoon,  we  came  into  a  higher  and  wilder  region, 
where  the  road  led  through  thickets  of  wild  olive,  holly,  oak, 
and  lauristinus,  with  occasional  groves  of  pine.  What  a  joy  I 
felt  in  hearing,  once  more,  the  grand  song  of  my  favorite  tree  ! 
Our  way  was  a  woodland  road  ;  a  storm  had  passed  over  the 
region  in  the  morning ;  the  earth  was  still  fresh  and  moist,  and 
there  was  an  aromatic  smell  of  leaves  in  the  air.  We  turned 
westward  into  the  entrance  of  a  deep  valley,  over  which  hung 
a  perpendicular  cliff  of  gray  and  red  rock,  fashioned  by  nature 
BO  as  to  resemble  a  vast  fortress,  with  windows,  portals  and 
projecting  bastions.  Frangois  displayed  his  knowledge  of 
mythology,  by  declaring  it  to  be  the  Palace  of  Pan.  While 
we  were  carrying  out  the  idea,  by  making  chambers  for  the 
Fauns  and  Nymphs  in  the  basement  story  of  the  precipice,  the 
path  wound  around  the  shoulder  of  the  moun'.ain,  and  the  glen 
spread  away  before  us,  branching  up  into  1  )ftier  ranges,  dis- 
closing through  its  gateway  of  cliffs,  rising  out  of  the  steeps 
of  pine  forest,  a  sublime  vista  of  blue  mountain  peaks,  climb- 
ing to  the  topmost  snows.  It  was  a  magnificent  Alpine  land- 
scape, more  glowing  and  rich  than  Switzerland,  yet  equalling  it 
in  all  the  loftier  characteristics  of  mountain  scenery.  Another 
and  greater  precipice  towered  over  us  on  the  right,  and  the 
black  eagles  which  had  made  their  eyries  in  its  niched  and 


KHAN     HEZARLUK.  2R9 

caverned  vaults,  were  wheeling  around  its  crest.  A  Uianch  of 
the  Cydnus  foamed  along  the  bottom  of  the  gorge,  and  some 
Turcoman  boys  were  tending  tlicir  herds  on  its  banks. 

Further  op  the  glen,  we  found  a  fountain  of  delicious  water, 
beside  the  deserted  Khan  of  Mezarluk,  and  there  encamped 
for  the  night.  Our  tent  was  pitched  on  the  mountain  side, 
Dear  a  fountain  of  the  coolest,  clearest  and  sweetest  water  I 
have  seen  in  all  the  East.  There  was  perfect  silence  among 
the  mountains,  and  the  place  was  as  lonely  as  it  was  sublime. 
The  night  was  cool  and  fresh  ;  but  I  could  not  sleep  until 
towards  mornmg.  When  I  opened  my  belated  eyes,  the  tall 
peaks  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  glen  were  girdled  below  their 
waists  with  the  flood  of  a  sj)arkling  sunrise.  The  sky  was 
pure  as  crystal,  except  a  soft  white  fleece  that  veiled  the  snowy 
pinnacles  of  Taurus,  folding  and  unfolding,  rising  and  sinking, 
as  if  to  make  their  beauty  still  more  attractive  by  the  partial 
concealment.  The  morning  air  was  almost  cold,  but  so  pure 
and  bracing — so  aromatic  with  the  healthy  breath  of  the  pines — 
that  I  took  it  down  in  the  fullest  possible  draughts. 

"We  rode  up  the  glen,  following  the  course  of  the  Cydnus, 
through  scenery  of  the  wildest  and  most  romantic  cliaracter, 
Tlie  bases  of  the  mountains  were  completely  enveloped  in 
forests  of  pine,  but  their  summits  rose  in  precipitous  crags, 
many  hundreds  of  feet  in  hciglit,  hanging  above  our  very  heads 
Even  after  the  sun  was  five  hours  high,  their  shadows  fell  upon 
as  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  glen.  Mixed  with  the  pine 
were  occasional  oaks,  an  undergrowth  of  hawthorn  in  bloom, 
and  shrubs  covered  with  yellow  and  white  flowers.  O'er  these 
the  wild  grape  threw  its  rich  festoons,  filling  the  air  with 
exquisite  fragrance. 


24C  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Out  of  this  glen,  we  passed  into  another,  still  narrower  and 
wilder.  The  road  was  the  old  Roman  way,  and  in  tolerable 
condition,  though  it  had  evidently  not  been  mended  for  many 
centuries.  In  half  an  hour,  the  pass  opened,  disclosing  an 
enormous  peak  in  front  of  us,  crowned  with  the  ruins  of  an 
ancient  fortress  of  considerable  extent.  The  position  was 
almost  impregnable,  the  mountain  dropping  on  one  side  into  a 
precipics  five  hundred  feet  in  perpendicular  height.  Under 
the  cliffs  of  the  loftiest  ridge,  there  was  a  terrace  planted  with 
walnut-trees  :  a  charming  little  hamlet  in  the  wilderness.  Wild 
Bycamore-trees,  with  white  trunks  and  bright  green  foliage, 
shaded  the  foamy  twists  of  the  Cydnus,  as  it  plunged  down  its 
difficult  bed.  The  pine  thrust  its  roots  into  the  naked  preci- 
pices, and  from  their  summits  hung  out  over  the  great  abyswg 
below.     I  thought  of  (Enone's 

-"  tall,  dark  pines,  that  fringed  the  craggy  ledge 


High  over  the  blue  gorge,  and  all  between 
The  snowy  peak  and  snow-white  cataract 
Fostered  the  callow  eaglet ;" 

and  certainly  she  had  on  Mount  Ida  no  more  beautiful  treea 
than  these. 

We  had  doubled  the  Crag  of  the  Fortress,  when  the  pass 
closed  before  us,  shut  in  by  two  immense  precipices  of  sheer, 
barren  rock,  more  than  a  thousand  feet  in  height.  Yast  frag- 
ments, fallen  from  above,  choked  up  the  entrance,  whence  the 
Cydnus,  spouting  forth  in  foam,  leaped  into  the  defile.  The 
ancient  road  was  completely  destroyed,  but  traces  of  it  were 
to  be  seen  on  the  rocks,  ten  feet  above  the  present  bed  of  the 
Btream,  and  on  the  broken  masses  which  had  been  hurled  below. 


THE     GIMCIAN     GATE.  241 

Tlie  path  wound  with  difBculty  among  these  wrcoks,  and  then 
merged  into  the  stream  itself,  as  we  entered  tlie  gateway.  A 
violent  wind  blew  in  our  faces  as  we  rode  through  the  strait, 
which  is  not  ten  yards  in  breadth,  while  its  walls  rise  to  tho 
rogion  of  the  clouds.  In  a  few  minutes  we  had  traversed  it, 
and  stood  looking  back  on  the  enormous  gap.  There  were 
several  Greek  tablets  cut  in  the  rock  above  the  old  road,  but 
so  defaced  as  to  be  illegible.  This  is  undoubtedly  the  princi- 
pal gate  of  the  Taurus,  and  the  pass  through  which  the  armies 
of  Cyrus  and  Alexander  entered  Cilicia. 

Beyond  the  gate  the  mountains  retreated,  and  we  climbed 
up  a  little  dell,  past  two  or  three  Turcoman  houses,  to  the  top 
of  a  hill,  whence  opened  a  view  of  the  jjrincipal  range,  now 
close  at  hand.  The  mountains  in  front  were  clothed  with  dark 
cedars  to  their  very  tops,  and  the  snow-fields  behind  them 
socracd  dazzlingly  bright  and  near.  Our  course  for  several 
miles  now  lay  through  a  more  open  valley,  drained  by  the 
upper  waters  of  the  Cydnus,  On  two  opposing  terraces  of 
the  mountain  chains  are  two  fortresses,  built  by  Ibraham 
Pasha,  but  now  wholly  deserted.  They  are  large  and  well- 
constructed  works  of  stone,  and  surrounded  by  ruins  of  stables, 
ovens,  and  the  rude  houses  of  the  soldiery.  Passing  between 
these,  we  ascended  to  the  shelf  dividing  the  waters  of  the 
Cydnus  and  the  Sihoon.  From  the  point  where  the  slope 
descends  to  the  latter  river,  tlicre  opened  before  me  one  of  the 
most  glorious  landscapes  I  ever  beheld.  I  stood  at  tho 
extremity  of  a  long  hollow  or  depression  between  the  two 
ranges  of  the  Taurus — not  a  valU'v,  for  it  was  divided  by  deep 
cloven  chasms,  hemmed  in  by  steeps  overgrown  with  cedars. 
On  my  right  rose  a  sublime  chain,  soaring  far  out  of  the  region 

11 


242  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

of  trees,  and  lifting  its  peaked  summits  of  gray  rock  into  the 
?ky.  Another  chain,  nearly  as  lofty,  but  not  so  broken,  nof 
with  such  large,  imposing  features,  overhung  me  on  the  left  ; 
and  far  in  front,  filling  up  the  magnificent  vista — filling  up  all 
between  the  lower  steeps,  crowned  with  pine,  and  the  round 
white  clouds  hanging  on  the  verge  of  heaven — were  the  shining 
snows  of  the  Taurus.  Great  God,  how  shall  I  describe  the 
grandeur  of  that  view  !  IIow  draw  the  wonderful  outlines  of 
those  mountains  !  How  paint  the  airy  hue  of  violet-gray,  tho 
soft  white  lights,  the  thousandfold  pencillings  of  mellow  shadow, 
the  height,  the  depth,  the  far-reaching  vastness  of  the  land- 
scape ! 

In  the  middle  distance,  a  great  blue  gorge  passed  transversely 
across  the  two  ranges  and  the  region  between.  This,  as  I 
rightly  conjectured,  was  the  bed  of  the  Sihoon.  Our  road  led 
downward  through  groves  of  fragrant  cedars,  and  we  travelled 
thus  for  two  hours  before  reaching  the  river.  Taking  a  north- 
ward course  up  his  banks,  we  reached  the  second  of  the  PylcB 
Cilicia  before  sunset.  It  is  on  a  grander  scale  than  the  first 
gate,  though  not  so  startling  and  violent  in  its  features.  Tho 
bare  walls  on  either  side  fall  sheer  to  the  water,  and  the  road, 
crossing  the  Sihoon  by  a  lofty  bridge  of  a  single  arch,  is  cut 
along  the  face  of  the  rock.  Near  the  bridge  a  subterranean 
stream,  almost  as  large  as  the  river,  bursts  forth  from  the  solid 
heart  of  tlie  mountain.  On  either  side  gigantic  masses  of  rock, 
with  here  and  there  a  pine  to  adorn  their  sterility,  tower  to 
the  height  of  6,000  feet,  in  some  places  almost  perpendicular 
from  summit  to  base.  They  arc  worn  and  broken  into  all 
fantastic  forms.  There  are  pyramids,  towers,  bastions,  miuiv 
retij,  and  long,  sharp  spires,  splintered  and  jagged  as  the  tur 


SCXRISE     IX     THE     PASS.  243 

retfl  of  an  icoixM-j.';.  I  have  seen  higlier  mountaii  s,  but  I  have 
never  seen  any  which  looked  so  high  as  tlicse.  Wc  camped  on 
a  narrow  plot  of  ground,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  tremendous 
gorge.  A  soldier,  passing  along  at  dusk,  told  us  that  a  raer 
chant  and  his  servant  were  murdered  in  the  same  place  lasl 
winter,  and  advised  us  to  keep  watch.  But  wc  slcjit  safely  all 
night,  while  the  stars  sparkled  over  the  chasm,  and  slips  of 
misty  cloud  hung  low  on  the  thousand  pinnacles  of  rock 

When  I  awoke,  the  gorge  lay  in  deep  shadow  ;  bat  high  up 
on  the  western  mountain,  above  the  enormous  black  pyramids 
that  arose  from  the  river,  the  topmost  pinnacles  of  rock 
sparkled  like  molten  silver,  in  the  full  gusli  of  sunrise.  The 
great  mountain,  blocking  up  the  gorge  behind  us,  was  bathed 
almost  to  its  foot  in  the  rays,  and,  seen  through  such  a  dark 
vista,  was  glorified  beyond  all  other  mountains  of  Earth.  The 
air  was  piercingly  cold  and  keen,  and  I  could  scarcely  bear  the 
water  of  the  Sihoon  on  my  sun-inflamed  face.  There  was  a 
little  spring  not  far  off,  from  which  we  obtained  sufficient  water 
to  drink,  the  river  being  too  muddy.  The  sjiring  was  but  a 
thread  oozing  from  the  soil  ;  but  the  Hadji  collected  it  in  hand- 
fuls,  which  he  emptied  into  his  water-skin,  and  then  brought 
to  us. 

The  morning  light  gave  a  still  finer  effect  to  the  manifold 
forms  of  the  mountains  than  that  of  the  afternoon  sun.  The 
Boft  gray  hue  of  the  rocks  shone  clearly  against  the  cloudless 
sky,  fretted  all  over  with  the  shadows  thrown  by  their  innu- 
merable spires  and  jutting  points,  and  by  the  natural  archca 
Bcooped  out  under  the  cliffs.  After  travelling  less  than  au 
hour,  wo  passed  the  riven  walls  of  the  mighty  gateway,  and 
rode  again  under  the  shade  of  pine  forests.    The  height  of  the 


244  THE     LANDS     OF    TIIK     SArvACEX. 

mountains  now  gradually  diminished,  and  their  sides,  covered 
with  pine  and  cedar,  became  less  broken  and  abrupt.  The 
surarjits,  nevertheless,  still  retained  the  same  rocky  spine, 
shooting  np  into  tall,  smgle  towers,  or  long  lines  of  even  para- 
pets Occasionally,  through  gaps  between,  we  caught  glimpses 
of  the  snow-fields,  dazzlingly  high  and  white. 

After  travelling  eight  or  nine  miles,  we  emerged  from  the 
pass,  and  left  the  Sihoon  at  a  place  called  Chiftlik  Khan — a 
Btone  building,  with  a  small  fort  adjoining,  wherein  fifteen 
6))lendid  bronze  cannon  lay  neglected  on  their  broken  and  rot- 
ting carriages.  As  we  crossed  the  stone  bridge  over  the  river, 
a  valley  opened  suddenly  on  the  left,  disclosing  the  whole  range 
of  the  Taurus,  which  we  now  saw  on  its  northern  side,  a  vast 
stretch  of  rocky  spires,  with  sparkling  snow-fields  between,  and 
long  ravines  filled  with  snow,  extending  far  down  between  the 
dark  blue  cliffs  and  the  dark  green  plumage  of  the  cedars. 

Immediately  after  passing  the  central  chain  of  the  Taurus, 
the  character  of  the  scenery  changed.  The  heights  were 
rounded,  the  rocky  strata  only  appearing  on  the  higher  peaks, 
and  the  slopes  of  loose  soil  were  deeply  cut  and  scarred  by  the 
rains  of  ages.  Both  in  appearance,  especially  in  the  scattered 
growth  of  trees  dotted  over  the  dark  red  soil,  and  in  their  for- 
mation, these  mountains  strongly  resemble  the  middle  ranges 
of  the  Californian  Sierra  Nevada.  We  climbed  a  long,  winding 
glen,  until  we  had  attained  a  considerable  height,  when  the 
road  reached  a  dividing  ridge,  giving  us  a  view  of  a  deep 
valley,  beyond  which  a  chain  of  barren  mountains  rose  to  the 
height  of  some  five  thousand  feet.  As  we  descended  the  rocky 
path,  a  little  caravan  of  asses  and  mules  clambered  up  to  meet 
ua,  along  the  brinks  of  steep  gulfs.     The  narrow  strip   of 


X     PASTORAL    VALLEY.  243 

bottom  land  along  the  stream  was  planted  with  rye,  now  in 
head,  and  rolling  in  silvery  waves  before  the  wind. 

After  our  noonday  halt,  we  went  over  the  hills  to  nrothe: 
Btrean),  which  came  from  the  north-west.  Its  valley  wa* 
broader  and  greener  than  that  we  had  left,  and  the  hills  inelj^ 
ing  it  had  soft  and  undulating  outlines.  They  were  bare  of 
trees,  but  colored  a  pale  green  by  their  thin  clothing  of  grass 
and  herbs.  In  this  valley  the  season  was  so  late,  owing  to  its 
height  above  the  sea,  that  the  early  spring-flowers  were  yet 
in  bloom.  Poppies  flamed  among  the  wheat,  and  the  banks  of 
the  stream  were  brilliant  with  patches  of  a  creeping  plant, 
with  a  bright  purple  blossom.  The  asphodel  grew  in  great 
profusion,  and  an  ivy-leaved  shrub,  covered  with  flakes  of  white 
oiooni,  made  the  air  faint  with  its  fragrance.  Still  further  up, 
we  came  to  orchards  of  walnut  and  plum  trees,  and  vineyards 
There  were  no  houses,  but  the  innabitants,  who  were  mostly 
Turcomans,  live  in  villages  during  the  winter,  and  in  summer 
pitch  their  tents  on  the  mountains  where  they  pasture  their 
flocks.  Directly  over  this  quiet  pastoral  vale  towered  the 
Taurus,  and  I  looked  at  once  on  its  secluded  loveliness  and  on 
the  wintry  heights,  whose  bleak  and  sublime  heads  were 
mantled  in  clouds.  From  no  point  is  there  a  more  imposing 
view  of  the  whole  snowy  range.  Near  the  head  of  the  valley 
we  passed  a  large  Turcoman  encampment,  surrounded  with 
herds  of  sheep  and  cattle. 

We  halted  for  the  evening  at  a  place  called  Kolii-Kushla — 
an  immense  fortress-village,  resembling  Baias,  and  like  it, 
wholly  deserted.  Near  it  there  is  a  small  town  of  very 
neat  houses,  which  is  also  deserted,  the  inhabitants  havuig 
gone  into  the  mountains  with  their  flocks.      I  walked  througK 


246  TUB     LANDS     OF     THE     SAl'.ACEN. 

the  fortress,  which  is  a  massive  building  of  stone,  about  500 
feet  square,  erected  by  Sultan  Murad  as  a  resting-place  for  the 
caravans  to  Mecca.  It  has  two  spacious  portals,  iu  which  the 
iron  doors  are  still  hanging,  connected  by  a  vaulted  passage, 
twenty  feet  high  and  forty  wide,  with  bazaars  on  each  side. 
Side  gateways  open  into  large  courts,  surrounded  with  arched 
chambers.  There  is  a  mosque  entire,  with  its  pulpit  and 
galleries,  and  the  gilded  crescent  still  glittering  over  its  dome. 
Behind  it  is  a  bath,  containing  au  entrance  hall  and  half  a 
dozen  chambers,  in  which  the  water-pipes  and  stone  tanks  still 
remain.  With  a  little  alteration,  the  building  would  make  a 
capital  Phalanstery,  where  the  Fouricrites  might  try  their 
experiment  without  contact  with  Society.  There  is  no  field 
for  them  equal  to  Asia  Minor — a  glorious  region,  abounding  in 
natural  wealth,  almost  depopulated,  and  containing  a  great 
number  of  Phalansteries  ready  built. 

We  succeeded  in  getting  some  eggs,  fowls,  and  milk  from  an 
old  Turcoman  who  had  charge  of  the  village.  A  man  who 
rode  by  on  a  donkey  sold  us  a  bag  of  yaourt  (sour  milk-curds), 
which  was  delicious,  notwithstanding  the  suspicious  appearance 
of  the  bag.  It  was  made  before  the  cream  had  been  removed, 
and  was  very  rich  and  nourishing.  The  old  Turcoman  sat 
down  and  watched  us  while  we  ate,  but  would  not  join  us,  as 
these  wandering  tribes  are  very  strict  in  keeping  Ramazan. 
When  we  had  reached  our  dessert — a  plate  of  fine  chen-ies — 
another  white-bearded  and  dignified  gentleman  visited  us.  We 
handed  him  the  cherries,  expecting  that  he  would  take  a  few 
and  politely  return  the  dish  :  but  no  such  thing.  He  coolly 
produced  his  handkerchief,  emptied  everything  into  it,  and 
marched  off     He  also  did  not  venture  to  eat,  although  we 


THE     PLAIN'     OF     KARAMANIA.  241 

pointed  to  the  Taurus,  on  whose  upper  snows  the  last  gleam  ol 
daylight  was  just  melting  away. 

We  arose  this  morning  in  a  dark,  cloudy  dawn.  There  was 
a  heavy  black  storm  hanging  low  in  the  west,  and  anotlier  was 
gathering  its  forces  along  the  mountains  behind  us.  A  cold 
wind  blew  down  the  valley,  and  long  peals  of  thunder  rolled 
graodly  among  the  gorges  of  Taurus.  An  isolated  hill, 
crowued  with  a  shattered  crag  which  bore  a  striking  resem- 
blance to  a  ruined  fortress,  stood  out  black  and  sharp  against 
the  far,  misty,  sunlit  peaks.  As  far  as  the  springs  were  yet 
undried,  the  laud  was  covered  with  flowers.  In  one  place  I 
Baw  a  large  square  plot  of  the  most  brilliant  crimson  hue, 
burning  amid  the  green  wheat-fields,  as  if  some  Tyrian  mantle 
had  been  flung  tliere.  The  long,  harmonious  slopes  and 
rounded  summits  of  the  hills  were  covered  with  drifts  of  a 
beautiful  purple  clover,  and  a  diminutive  variety  of  the  achillea, 
or  yarrow,  with  glowing  yellow  blossoms.  The  leaves  had  a 
pleasant  aromatic  odor,  and  filled  the  air  with  their  refreshing 
breath,  as  they  were  crushed  under  the  hoofs  of  our  horses. 

We  had  now  reached  the  highest  ridge  of  the  hilly  country 
along  the  northern  base  of  Taurus,  and  saw,  far  and  wide 
before  us,  the  great  central  plain  of  Karamania.  Two  isolated 
mountains,  at  forty  or  fifty  miles  distance,  broke  the  monotony 
of  the  desert-like  level :  Kara  Dagh  in  the  west,  and  the  snow- 
capped summits  of  Hassan  Dagh  in  the  north-cast.  Beyond 
the  latter,  we  tried  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  famous  Mons 
Argaeos,  at  the  base  of  which  is  Kaisariyeh,  the  ancient  Coesarea 
of  Cappadocia.  This  mountain,  which  is  13,000  feet  high,  is 
the  loftiest  peak  of  Asia  Minor.  The  clouds  hung  low  on  the 
horizon,  aud  the  rains  were  falling,  veiling  it  from  our  sight 


248  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SAUACEX. 

Our  road,  for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  was  jver  barren 
hills,  covered  with  scanty  herbage.  The  sun  shone  out  intense' 
ly  hot,  and  the  glare  of  the  white  soil  was  exceedingly  painful 
to  my  eyes.  The  locality  of  Eregli  was  betrayed,  some  time 
before  we  reached  it,  by  its  dark-green  belt  of  fruit  trees  It 
stands  in  the  mouth  of  a  narrow  valley  which  winds  down 
from  the  Taurus,  and  is  watered  by  a  large  rapid  stream  that 
finally  loses  itself  in  the  lakes  and  morasses  of  the  plain. 
There  had  been  a  heavy  black  thunder-cloud  gathering,  and  as 
we  reached  our  camping-ground,  under  some  fine  walnut-trees 
near  the  stream,  a  sudden  blast  of  cold  wind  swept  over  the 
town,  filling  the  air  with  dust.  We  pitched  the  tent  in  all 
haste,  expecting  a  storm,  but  the  rain  finally  passed  to 
the  northward.  We  then  took  a  walk  through  the  town, 
which  is  a  forlorn  place.  A  spacious  khan,  built  apparently 
for  the  Mecca  pilgrims,  is  in  ruins,  but  the  mosque  has  an 
exquisite  minaret,  eighty  feet  high,  and  still  bearing  traces  of 
the  devices,  in  blue  tiles,  which  once  covered  it.  The  shops 
were  mostly  closed,  and  in  those  which  were  still  open  the 
owners  lay  at  full  length  on  their  bellies,  their  faces  gaunl 
with  fasting.  They  seemed  annoyed  at  our  troubling  them, 
even  with  purchases.  One  would  have  thought  that  some 
fearful  pestilence  had  fallen  upon  the  town.  The  cobblers 
only,  who  somewhat  languidly  plied  their  implements,  seemed 
to  retain  a  little  life.  The  few  Jews  and  Armenians  smoked 
their  pipes  in  a  tantalizing  manner,  in  the  very  faces  of  the 
poor  Mussulmans.  We  bought  an  oka  of  excellent  cherries, 
which  we  were  cruel  enough  to  taste  in  the  streets,  before  the 
hungry  eyes  of  the  suffering  merchants. 

This  evening  the  asses  belonging  to  *he  place  were  driven  it 


A    DERVISH.  219 

from  pasture — four  or  five  hundred  in  all  ;  and  such  a  show  of 
curious  asinine  specimens  as  I  never  before  beheld.  A  Dervish, 
who  was  with  us  in  Quarantine,  at  Adana,  has  just  arrived.  lie 
had  lost  his  tcskerc  (passport),  and  on  issuing  forth  purified, 
was  cast  into  prison.  Finally  he  found  some  one  who  knew 
Lim,  and  procured  his  release.  lie  had  come  on  foot  to  this 
place  in  five  days,  suffering  many  privations,  having  been  forty- 
eight  hours  without  food.  lie  is  bound  to  Konia,  on  a  pil- 
grimage to  the  tomb  uf  Hazret  Mevlana,  the  founder  of  the 
sect  of  dancing  Dervishes.  We  gave  him  food,  in  return  for 
which  he  taught  me  the  formula  of  his  prayers.  lie  tells  me  J 
should  always  i)ronounce  the  name  of  Allah  wlicu  my  horse 
stumbles,  or  I  see  a  man  in  danger  of  his  life,  as  the  wori  has 
a  saving  power.  Iladji  Youssuf,  who  has  just  been  begging 
for  an  advance  of  twenty  piastres  to  buy  grain  for  his  horses, 
swore  "  by  the  pardon  of  God  "  that  he  would  sell  the  lamo 
horse  at  Konia  and  get  a  better  one.  Wf  have  lost  all  confi- 
dence in  the  old  villain's  promises,  but  the  poor  beasts  shall 
not  suffer  for  his  delinquencies. 

Our  tent  is  in  a  charming  spot,  and,  from  without,  makes  a 
picture  to  be  remembered.  The  yellow  illumination  from 
within  strikes  on  the  under  sides  of  the  walnut  boughs,  while 
the  moonlight  silvers  them  from  above.  Beyond  gardena 
where  the  nightingales  are  singing,  the  tall  minaret  of  Eregli 
stands  revealed  in  the  vapory  glow.  The  night  is  too  sweet 
and  balmy  for  sleep,  and  yet  I  must  close  my  eyes  upon  it,  foi 
the  hot  plains  of  Karamauia  await  us  to-morrow. 


11* 


250  THE     LANDS     OF     TlIF     SARACK.V. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THfi     PLAINS     OF     KAKAMANIA. 

The  Plauis  of  Karamania — Afternoon  Heat — A  Well — Volcanic  Phenomena — Kars' 
oounar — A  Grand  Ruined  Khan — Moonlight  Picture — A  Landscape  of  the  Plains— 
Mirages — A  Short  Interview — The  Village  of  Israil — Third  Day  on  the  Plains- 
Approach  to  Eonia. 

"  A  weary  waste,  expanding  to  the  skies." — Goldsmith. 

KoNiA,  Capital  of  Karamania,  Friday,  June  25, 1S54. 

FRAN901S  awoke  us  at  the  break  of  day,  at  Eregli,  as  we 
had  a  journey  of  twelve  hours  before  us.  Passing  through  the 
town,  we  traversed  a  narrow  belt  of  garden  and  orchard  land, 
and  entered  the  great  plain  of  Karamania.  Our  road  led  at 
first  northward  towards  a  range  called  Karadja  Dagh,  and 
then  skirted  its  base  westward.  After  three  hours'  travel  we 
passed  a  village  of  neat,  whitewashed  houses,  which  were 
entirely  deserted,  all  the  inhabitants  having  gone  off  to  the 
mountains.  There  were  some  herds  scattered  over  the  plain, 
near  the  village.  As  the  day  wore  on,  the  wind,  which  had 
been  chill  in  the  morning,  ceased,  and  the  air  became  hot  and 
sultry.  The  glare  from  the  white  soil  was  so  painful  ihat  1 
was  obliged  to  close  my  eyes,  and  so  ran  a  continual  risk  of 
falling  asleep  and  tumbling  from  my  horse.  Thus,  drowsy  and 
half  unconscious  of  my  whereabouts,  I  rode  on  in  the  heat  anc 


VOLCANIC     PUENUMENA,  251 

arid  silence  of  the  plain  until  noon,  wlieu  we  reached  a  well 
It  was  a  shaft,  sunk  about  thirty  feet  deep,  with  a  long,  slop 
ing  gallery  slanting  off  to  the  surface.  The  well  was  nearly 
dry,  but  by  descending  the  gallery  we  obtained  a  suflicient 
supply  of  cold,  pure  water.  We  breakfasted  in  the  shaded 
doorway,  sharing  our  provisions  with  a  Turcoman  boy,  who 
was  accompanying  his  fiither  to  Eregli  with  a  load  of  salt 

Our  road  now  crossed  a  long,  barren  pass,  between  twc 
parts  of  Karadja  Dagh.  Near  the  northern  side  there  was  a 
salt  lake  of  one  hundred  yards  in  diameter,  sunk  in  a  deep 
natural  basin.  The  water  was  intensely  saline.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  road,  and  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  is  an  extinct 
volcano,  the  crater  of  which,  near  two  hundred  feet  deep,  is  a 
salt  lake,  with  a  trachytic  cone  three  hundred  feet  high  rising 
from  the  centre.  Fi-ora  the  slope  of  the  mountain  we  over- 
looked another  and  somewhat  deeper  plain,  extending  to  the 
north  and  west.  It  was  bounded  by  broken  peaks,  all  of 
which  betrayed  a  volcanic  origin.  Far  before  us  we  saw  the 
tower  on  the  hill  of  Kara-bounar,  our  resting-place  for  the 
night.  The  road  thither  was  over  a  barren  i)luin,  cheered  here 
and  there  by  patches  of  a  cushion-like  plant,  which  was  covered 
with  pink  blossoms.  Mr.  Harrison  scared  up  some  coveys  of 
the  fraukolin,  a  large  bird  resembling  the  pheasant,  and 
enriched  our  larder  with  a  dozen  starlings. 

Kara-bounar  is  built  on  the  slope  of  a  mound,  at  the  foot  of 
which  stands  a  spacious  mosque,  visible  far  over  the  plain.  It 
has  a  dome,  and  two  tall,  pencil-like  towers,  similar  to  those  of 
the  Citadel-mosque  of  Cairo.  Near  it  are  the  remains  of  a 
tEagnificcnt  khan-fortress,  said  to  nave  oeen  built  by  tne  eunuch 
of  one  of  the  former  Sultans.      As  there  was  no  water  in  tb« 


252  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

wells  outside  of  the  town,  we  entered  the  khan  and  pitched  ihc 
tent  iu  its  grass-grown  court  Six  square  pillars  of  hewn  stone 
made  an  aisle  to  our  door,  and  the  lofty,  roofless  walls  of  the 
court,  100  by  150  feet,  inclosed  us.  Another  court,  of  similar 
eize,  communicated  with  it  by  a  broad  portal,  and  the  remains 
of  baths  and  bazaars  lay  beyond.  A  handsome  stone  fountain, 
with  two  streams  of  running  water,  stood  in  front  of  the  khan. 
We  were  royally  lodged,  but  almost  starved  in  our  splendor, 
as  only  two  or  three  Turcomans  remained  out  of  two  thousand 
(who  had  gone  off  with  their  herds  to  the  mountains),  and  they 
were  unable  to  furnish  us  with  provisions.  But  for  our  franko- 
lins  and  starlings  we  should  have  gone  fasting. 

The  mosque  was  a  beautiful  structure  of  white  limestone, 
and  the  galleries  of  its  minarets  were  adorned  with  rich  ara- 
besque ornaments.  While  the  muezzin  was  crying  his  sunset 
call  to  prayer,  I  entered  the  portico  and  looked  into  the  inte- 
rior, which  was  so  bare  as  to  appear  incomplete.  As  we  sat 
in  our  palace-court,  after  dinner,  the  moon  arose,  lighting  up 
the  niches  in  the  walls,  the  clusters  of  windows  in  the  immense 
eastern  gable,  and  the  rows  of  massive  columns.  The  large 
dimensions  of  the  building  gave  it  a  truly  grand  effect,  and  but 
for  the  whine  of  a  distant  jackal  I  could  have  believed  that  we 
were  sitting  in  the  aisles  of  a  roofless  Gotliic  cathedral,  in  the 
beart  of  Europe.  FrauQois  was  somewhat  fearful  of  thieves, 
but  the  peace  and  repose  of  the  place  were  so  perfect  that  1 
would  not  allow  any  such  apprehensions  to  disturb  me.  In 
two  miimtes  after  I  touched  my  bed  I  was  insensible,  and  I  did 
uot  move  a  limb  until  sunrise. 

Beyond  Kara-bounar,  there  is  a  low,  barren  ridge,  climbing 
which,  we  overlooked  au  immense  plain,  uncultivated,  appa- 


MIRAGES.  253 

rently  unfertile,  and  withont  a  sign  of  life  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  Kara  Dagh,  in  the  south,  lifted  nearer  us  its  chister 
of  dark  summits  ;  to  the  north,  the  long  ridge  of  Usedjik  Dagh 
(the  Pigmy  Mountain)  stretched  like  a  cape  into  tlie  jjlaiu  ; 
Hassan  Dagh,  wrapped  in  a  soft  white  cloud,  receded  behind 
ns,  and  the  snows  of  Taurus  seemed  almost  as  distant  a*  when 
we  first  beheld  them  from  the  Syrian  Gates.  We  rode  for  four 
hours  over  the  dead  level,  the  only  objects  that  met  our  eyes 
being  an  occasional  herd  of  camels  in  the  distance.  About 
noon,  we  reached  a  well,  similar  to  that  of  the  previous  day, 
but  of  recent  construction.  A  long,  steep  gallery  led  down  to 
the  water,  which  was  very  cold,  but  had  a  villainous  taste  of 
lime,  salt,  and  sulphur. 

After  an  hour's  halt,  we  started  again.  The  sun  was 
intousely  hot,  and  for  hours  we  jogged  on  over  the  dead  level, 
the  bare  white  soil  blinding  our  eyes  with  its  glare.  The  dis- 
tant hills  were  lifted  above  the  horizon  by  a  mirage.  Long 
sheets  of  blue  water  were  spread  along  their  bases,  islanding 
the  isolated  peaks,  and  turuing  into  sliips  and  boats  the  black 
6{)ecks  of  camels  far  away.  But  the  phenomena  were  by  no 
means  on  so  grand  a  scale  as  I  had  seen  in  the  Nubian  Desert. 
On  the  south-western  horizon,  we  discerned  the  summits  of  the 
Karaman  range  of  Taurus,  covered  with  snow.  In  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  we  saw  a  solitary  tent  upon  the  plain,  from 
which  an  individual  advanced  to  meet  us.  As  ho  drew  nearer 
we  noticed  that  he  wore  white  Frank  pantaloons,  similar  to  the 
Turkish  soldiery,  with  a  jacket  of  brown  cloth,  and  a  heavj 
eabre.  When  he  was  within  convenient  speaking  distance,  he 
cried  out :  "  Stop  !  why  are  you  running  away  from  me  V 
''  What  do  you  call  running  away  V  rejoined  Francois  ;   ''  wc 


254  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

are  goinj^  on  our  journey."  "  "Where  do  you  come  from  ?"  ha 
then  asked.  "  From  there,"  said  FranQois,  pointing  behind  \is 
"  Where  are  you  going  ?"  "  There  !"  and  the  provoking  Greek 
simply  pointed  forwards.  "You  have  neither  faith  nor  rcli' 
gion  !"  said  the  man,  indignantly ;  then,  turning  upon  his  heel, 
be  strode  back  across  the  j)lain. 

About  four  o'clock,  we  saw  a  long  line  of  objects  rising 
before  us,  but  so  distorted  by  the  mirage  that  it  was  impossible 
to  know  what  they  were.  After  a  while,  however,  we  decided 
that  they  were  houses  interspersed  with  trees  ;  but  the  trees 
proved  to  be  stacks  of  hay  and  lentils,  heaped  on  the  flat  roofs. 
This  was  Ismil,  our  halting-place.  The  houses  were  miserable 
mud  huts  ;  but  the  village  was  large,  and,  nidike  most  of  those 
we  have  seen  this  side  of  Taurus,  inhabited.  The  people  are 
Turcomans,  and  their  possessions  appear  to  be  almost  entirely 
in  their  herds.  Immense  numbers  of  sheep  and  goats  were 
past-uring  on  the  plain.  There  were  several  wells  in  the  place, 
provided  with  buckets  attached  to  long  swing-poles  ;  the  water 
was  very  cold,  but  brackish.  Our  tent  was  pitched  on  the 
plain,  on  a  hard,  gravelly  strip  of  soil.  A  crowd  of  wild-haired 
Turcoman  boys  gathered  in  front,  to  stare  at  us,  and  the  shep- 
herds quarrelled  at  the  wells,  as  to  which  should  take  his  turn 
at  watering  his  flocks.  In  the  evening  a  handsome  old  Turk 
visited  us,  and,  finding  that  we  were  bound  to  Constantinople, 
requested  Frangois  to  take  a  letter  to  his  son,  who  was  settled 
there. 

Francois  aroused  us  this  morning  before  the  dawn,  as  we 
had  a  journey  of  thirty-five  miles  before  us.  He  was  in  a  bad 
humor  ;  for  a  man,  whom  he  had  requested  to  keep  watch  ovei 
Uia  tent,  while  he  went  into  the  village,  had  stolen  a  fork  and 


APPROACH    TO     KONIA.  868 

spoon.  The  old  Turk,  who  had  returned  as  soon  as  we  were 
stirring,  went  out  to  hunt  the  thief,  but  did  not  succeed  in 
finding  liim.  The  inhabitants  of  the  village  were  up  long 
before  sunrise,  and  driving  away  in  their  wooden-wheeled  carta 
to  the  meadows  where  they  cut  grass.  The  old  Turk  accom 
panied  us  some  distance,  in  order  to  show  us  a  nearer  way, 
avoiding  a  marshy  spot.  Our  road  lay  over  a  vast  plain,  seem- 
ingly boundless,  for  the  lofty  mountain-ranges  that  surrounded 
it  on  all  sides  were  so  distant  and  cloud-like,  and  so  lifted  from 
the  horizon  by  the  deceptive  mirage,  that  the  eye  did  not 
recognize  their  connection  with  it.  The  wind  blew  strongly 
from  the  north-west,  and  was  so  cold  that  I  dismounted  and 
walked  ahead  for  two  or  three  hours. 

Before  noon,  we  passed  two  villages  of  mud  huts,  partly 
inhabited,  and  with  some  wheat-fields  around  them.  "We 
breakfasted  at  another  well,  which  furnislied  us  with  a  drink 
that  tasted  like  iced  sea-water.  Thence  we  rode  forth  again 
into  the  heat,  for  the  wind  had  fallen  by  this  time,  and  the  sun 
shone  out  with  great  force.  There  was  ever  the  same  dead 
level,  and  we  rode  directly  towards  the  mountains,  which,  to 
my  eyes,  seemed  nearly  as  distant  as  ever  At  last,  there  was 
a  dark  glimmer  through  the  mirage,  at  their  base,  and  a  half- 
hour's  ride  showed  it  to  be  a  line  of  trees.  In  another  hour, 
we  could  distinguish  a  minaret  or  two,  and  finally,  walls  and 
the  state'.y  domes  of  mosques.  This  was  Konia,  the  ancient 
Icoiiiiim,  one  of  the  most  renowned  cities  of  A.sia  Minor. 


Si^O  mz     LANIiS     OF     THE     SAUACEW 


CHAPTER  XX. 

SCENES     IN     KONIA. 

^ppr(M.ch  to  Konia — I'omb  of  Hazret  Mevlana— Lodgings  ia  a  Khan— An  Ainerliai 
Luxury — A  Nighi-Scene  in  Ramazan— Prayers  in  the  Mosque — Remains  of  th< 
Ancient  City— View  from  the  Mosque — The  Interior — A  Leaning  Minaret — Tb 
Diverting  History  of  the  Muleteers. 

"  But  they  shook  off  the  dust  oi  their  feet,  and  came  unto  Iconium." — Acts,  xiii.  51 

Konia  (Ancient  Iconium),  Jime  27, 1852. 

The  view  of  Konia  from  the  plain  is  not  striking  until  one  has 
approached  within  a  mile  of  the  suburbs,  when  the  group  of 
mosques,  with  their  heavy  central  domes  lifted  on  clusters  of 
smaller  ones,  and  their  tall,  light,  glittering  minarets,  rising 
above  the  foliage  of  the  gardens,  against  the  background  of 
airy  hills,  has  a  very  pleasing  effect.  We  approached  through 
a  long  line  of  dirty  suburbs,  which  looked  still  more  forlorn  on 
account  of  the  Raraazan.  Some  Turkish  ofBcials,  in  shabby 
Frank  dresses,  followed  us  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  by  talking 
with  our  Katurjees,  or  muleteers.  Outside  the  city  walls,  we 
passed  some  very  large  l)arracks  for  cavalry,  built  by  Ibrahim 
Pasha.  On  the  plain  north-east  of  the  city,  the  battle  between 
bira  and  the  forces  of  the  Sultan,  resulting  in  the  defeat  of  the 
jatter,  was  fought. 
We  next  came  upon  two  magnificent  mosques,  built  of  white 


THE  TOMB  OF  RAZRET  MEVLANA.  251 

limestone,  with  a  multitude  of  leaden  domes  and  lOfty  minarets, 
udorned  with  galleries  rich  in  arabesque  ornauier.ts.  A'.tached 
10  one  of  them  is  the  tomb  of  Ilazret  Mevlana,  the  founder  of 
the  sect  of  Mevlevi  Dervishes,  which  is  reputed  one  of  the 
most  sacred  places  in  the  East.  The  tomb  is  surmounted  by  a 
dome,  upon  which  stands  a  tall  cyUudrical  tower,  reeded,  with 
channels  between  each  projection,  and  terminating  in  a  long, 
tapering  cone.  This  tower  is  made  of  glazed  tiles,  of  the  most 
brilliant  sea-blue  color,  and  si)arkles  in  the  sun  hke  a  vast  pillar 
of  icy  spar  in  some  Polar  grotto.  It  is  a  most  striking  and 
fantastic  object,  surrounded  by  a  cluster  of  minnrets  and  several 
cypress-trees,  amid  which  it  seems  placed  as  the  central  orna- 
ment and  crown  of  the  group. 

The  aspect  of  the  city  was  so  filthy  and  uninviting  that  we 
preferred  pitching  our  tent ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  find  a 
place  without  going  back  upon  the  plain  ;  so  we  turned  into 
the  bazaar,  and  asked  the  way  to  a  khan.  There  was  a  toler- 
able crowd  in  the  street,  although  many  of  the  shops  were  shut. 
The  first  klian  we  visited  was  too  filthy  to  enter  ;  but  the 
second,  though  most  unpromising  in  appearance,  turned  out  to 
be  better  than  it  looked.  The  oda-hashi  (master  of  the  rooms) 
thoroughly  swept  and  sprinkled  the  narrow  little  chamber  he 
gave  us,  laid  clean  mats  upon  the  floor,  and,  when  our  carpets 
and  beds  wore  placed  within,  its  walls  of  mud  looked  somewhat 
comfortable.  Its  single  window,  with  an  iron  grating  in  lieu  of 
glass,  looked  upon  an  oblong  court,  on  the  second  story,  sur 
rounded  by  the  rooms  of  Armenian  merchants.  The  main 
court  (the  gate  of  which  is  always  closed  at  sunset)  is  two 
stories  in  height,  with  a  rough  wooden  balcony  running  around 
It,  and  a  well  of  muddy  water  in  the  centre. 


258  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

The  oda-bashi  lent  us  a  Turkish  table  and  supplied  us  with 
dinner  from  his  own  kitchen;  kibabs,  stewed  beans,  and  cucam 
her  salad.  Mr.  11,  and  I,  forgetting  the  Ramazan,  went  out 
to  hunt  foi  an  iced  sherbet;  but  all  the  cofifee-shops  were  closed 
nntil  sunset.  The  people  stared  at  our  Egyptian  costumes, 
and  a  follow  in  official  dress  demanded  ray  teske'>  e.  Soon  after 
we  returned,  Fran9ois  appeared  with  a  splendid  lump  of  ice  in 
a  basin  and  some  lemons.  The  ice,  so  the  khangez  said,  ia 
taken  from  a  lake  among  the  mountains,  which  in  winter 
freezes  to  the  thickness  of  a  foot.  Piehind  the  lake  is  a  natural 
cavern,  which  the  people  fill  with  ice,  and  then  close  up.  At 
this  season  they  take  it  out,  day  by  day,  and  bring  it  down  to 
the  city.  It  is  very  pure  and  thick,  and  justifies  the  Turkish 
proverb  in  regard  to  Konia,  which  is  celebrated  for  three 
excellent  things  :  "  dooz,  booz,  kaz  " — salt,  ice,  and  girls. 

Soon  after  sunset,  a  cannon  announced  the  close  of  the  fast. 
We  waited  an  hour  or  two  longer,  to  allow  the  people  time  to 
eat,  and  then  sallied  out  into  the  streets.  Every  minaret  in 
the  city  blazed  with  a  crown  of  lighted  lamps  around  its  upper 
gallery,  while  the  long  shafts  below,  and  the  tapering  coneg 
above,  topped  with  brazen  crescents,  shone  fair  in  the  moon- 
light. It  was  a  strange,  brilliant  spectacle.  In  the  square 
before  the  principal  mosque  we  found  a  crowd  of  persona 
frolicking  around  the  fountain,  in  the  light  of  a  number  of 
torches  on  poles  planted  in  the  ground.  Mats  were  spread  on 
the  stones,  and  rows  of  Turks  of  all  classes  sat  thereon,  smok 
ing  their  pipes.  Large  earthea  water-jars  stood  here  and  tliere, 
and  the  people  drank  so  often  and  so  long  that  they  seemed 
determined  to  provide  against  the  morrow.  The  boys  wer€ 
haying  their  amusement  in  wrestMng,  shouting  ftud  6nag  off 


A    NIGHT-SCENE     IN     RAMAZAN.  259 

Bqaibs,  which  they  threw  into  tl)e  crowd.  "We  kicked  off  our 
slippers,  sat  down  among  the  Turks,  smoked  a  nargliileh, 
drank  a  cup  of  coffee  and  an  iced  sherbet  of  raisin  juice,  and  sc 
enjoyed  the  Ramazan  as  well  as  the  best  of  them. 

Numbers  of  True  Believers  were  drinking  and  wasliing  then>- 
selves  at  the  picturesque  fountain,  and  just  as  we  rose  to 
depart,  the  voice  of  a  boy-muezzin,  on  one  of  the  tallest  mina- 
rets, sent  down  a  musical  call  to  prayer.  Immediately  the  boys 
left  off  their  sports  and  started  on  a  run  for  the  great  mosque, 
and  the  grave,  gray-bearded  Turks  got  up  from  the  mats, 
shoved  on  their  slippers,  and  marched  after  them.  We  fol 
lowed,  getting  a  glimpse  of  the  illuminated  interior  of  the 
building,  as  we  passed;  but  the  oda-bashi  conducted  us  still 
further,  to  a  smaller  though  more  beautiful  mosque,  surrounded 
with  a  garden-court.  It  was  a  truly  magical  picture.  \Vc 
entered  the  gate,  and  passed  on  by  a  marble  pavement,  under 
trees  and  arbors  of  vines  that  almost  shut  out  the  moonlight, 
to  a  paved  space,  in  the  centre  whereof  was  a  beautiful  foun- 
tain, in  the  purest  Saracenic  style.  Its  heavy,  projecting  cor- 
nices and  tall  pyramidal  roof  rested  on  a  circle  of  elegant 
arches,  surrounding  a  marble  structure,  whence  the  water 
gushed  forth  in  a  dozen  sparkling  streams.  On  three  sides  it 
was  inclosed  by  the  moonlit  trees  and  arbors  ;  on  the  fourth 
by  the  outer  corridor  of  the  mosque,  the  door  of  entiance  being 
ixactly  opposite. 

,  Large  numbers  of  persons  were  washing  their  hands  and  feet 
at  the  fountain,  after  which  they  entered  and  knelt  on  the 
floor.  We  stood  unobserved  in  the  corridor,  and  looked  in  od 
the  splendidly  illuminated  interior  and  tiie  crowd  at  prayer,  al! 
bending  their  bodies  to  the  earth  at  regular  intervals  and  mor 


260  THE     LANDS     OF    TUE     SARACEN*. 

muring  the  name  of  Allah.  Thoy  resembled  a  plaiu  of  reeds 
bending  before  the  gusts  of  wind  which  precede  a  storm. 
When  all  had  entered  and  were  united  in  solemn  prayer,  we 
returned,  passing  the  grand  mosque.  I  stole  up  to  the  door, 
lifted  the  heavy  carpet  that  hung  before  it,  and  looked  in. 
There  was  a  Mevlevi  Dervish  standing  in  the  entrance,  but  his 
eyes  were  lifted  in  heavenly  abstraction,  and  he  did  not  see  me. 
The  interior  was  brilliantly  lit  by  white  and  colored  lamps, 
suspended  from  the  walls  and  the  great  central  dome.  It  was 
an  imposing  structure,  simple  in  form,  yet  grand  from  its 
dimensions.  The  floor  was  covered  with  kneeling  figures,  and 
a  deep  voice,  coming  from  the  other  end  of  the  mosque,  was 
uttering  pious  phrases  in  a  kind  of  cliant.  I  satisfied  my  curi- 
osity quickly,  and  we  then  returned  to  the  khan. 

Yesterday  afternoon  I  made  a  more  thorough  examination 
of  the  city.  Passing  through  the  bazaars,  I  reached  the  Serai, 
or  Pasha's  Palace,  wliich  stands  on  the  site  of  that  of  the  Sul- 
tans of  loonium.  It  is  a  long,  wooden  building,  with  no  pre- 
tensions to  architectural  beauty.  Near  it  there  is  a  large  and 
ancient  mosque,  with  a  minaret  of  singular  elegance.  It  is 
about  ]  20  feet  high,  with  two  hanging  galleries  ;  the  whole 
built  of  blue  and  red  bricks,  the  latter  projecting  so  as  to 
form  quaint  patterns  or  designs.  Several  ancient  buildings 
near  this  mosque  are  surmounted  with  pyramidal  towers, 
resembling  Pagodas  of  India.  Following  the  long,  crooked 
lanes  between  mud  buildings,  we  passed  these  curious  struc- 
tures and  reached  the  ancient  wall  of  the  city.  In  one 
of  the  streets  lay  a  marble  lion,  badly  executed,  and  appa- 
rently of  the  time  of  the  Lower  Empire.  In  the  wall  were 
Inserted  many  similar  figures,   with  fragments  of  friezes  and 


VIEW     FROM    THE     MOSQUE.  26 

cornices.  This  is  the  work  of  the  Seljook  Kings,  who,  in  build 
iug  the  wall,  took  great  pains  to  exhibit  the  fragments  of  the 
ancient  city.  The  number  of  altars  they  have  preserved  is 
quite  remarkable.  On  the  square  towers  are  sunken  tabids, 
containing  long  Arabic  inscriptions. 

The  high  walls  of  a  ruined  building  in  the  southern  part  of 
the  city  attracted  us,  and  on  going  thither  we  found  it  ^o  be 
an  ancient  mosque,  standing  on  an  eminence  formed  apparently 
of  the  debris  of  other  buildings.  Part  of  the  wall  was  also 
ancient,  and  in  some  places  showed  the  marks  of  an  earth 
quake.  A  long  flight  of  steps  led  up  to  the  door  of  the 
mosque,  and  as  we  ascended  we  were  rewarded  by  the  most 
charming  view  of  the  city  and  the  grand  plain.  Konia  lay  at 
our  feet — a  wide,  straggling  array  of  low  mud  dwellings, 
dotted  all  over  with  patches  of  garden  verdure,  while  its  three 
superb  mosques,  with  the  many  smaller  tombs  and  places  of 
worship,  appeared  like  buildings  left  from  some  former  and 
more  magnificent  capital.  Outside  of  this  circle  ran  a  belt  of 
garden  land,  adorned  with  groves  and  long  lines  of  fruit  trees  ; 
Btill  further,  the  plain,  a  sea  of  faded  green,  flecked  with  the 
softest  cloud-shadows,  and  beyond  all,  the  beautiful  outlines 
and  dreamy  tints  of  the  different  mountain  chains.  It  was  in 
every  respect  a  lovely  landscape,  and  the  city  is  unworthy 
Buch  surroundings.  The  sky,  which  in  this  region  is  of  a  pale, 
soft,  delicious  blue,  was  dotted  with  scattered  fleeces  of  white 
clouds,  and  there  was  an  exquisite  play  of  light  and  shade  over 
the  hills. 

There  were  half  a  dozen  men  and  boys  about  the  door, 
amusing  themselves  with  bursting  percussion  caps  on  the 
Btone.     They  addressed  us  as    "hadnT  (pilgrims),  begging 


262  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACElf. 

for  more  caps.  I  told  them  I  was  not  a  Turk,  but  an  Arab, 
which  they  beh'eved  at  once,  and  requested  me  to  enter  the 
mosque.  The  interior  had  a  remarkably  fine  effect.  It  was  » 
maze  of  arches,  supported  l)y  columus  of  polished  black  mar* 
ble,  forty  iu  number.  In  form  it  was  nearly  square,  and 
covered  with  a  flat,  wooden  roof.  The  floor  was  covered  with 
a  carpet,  whereon  several  persons  were  lying  at  full  length, 
while  an  old  man,  seated  in  one  of  the  most  remote  corners, 
was  reading  in  a  loud,  solemn  voice.  It  is  a  peculiar  struc- 
ture, which  I  should  be  glad  to  examine  more  in  detail. 

Not  far  from  this  eminence  is  a  remarkable  leaning  minaret, 
more  than  a  hundred  feet  in  height,  while  in  diameter  it  can- 
not be  more  than  fifteen  feet.  In  design  it  is  light  and  ele- 
gant, and  the  effect  is  not  injured  by  its  deviation  from  the 
perpendicular,  which  I  should  judge  to  be  about  six  feet. 
From  the  mosque  we  walked  over  the  mounds  of  old  Iconium 
to  the  eastern  wall,  passing  another  mosque,  wholly  iu  ruin, 
but  which  must  have  once  been  more  splendid  than  any  now 
standing.  The  portal  is  the  richest  specimen  of  Saracenic 
sculpture  I  have  ever  seen  :  a  very  labyrinth  of  intricate  orna- 
ments. The  artist  must  have  seen  the  great  portal  of  the 
Temple  of  the  Sun  at  Baalbec.  The  minarets  have  tumbled 
down,  the  roof  has  fallen  in,  but  the  walls  are  still  covered 
with  white  and  blue  tiles,  of  the  finest  workmanship,  resembling 
a  mosaic  of  ivory  and  lapis  lazuli.  Some  of  the  chambers 
Beem  to  be  inhabited,  for  two  old  men  with  white  beards  lay 
in  the  shade,  and  were  not  a  little  startled  by  our  suddea 
appearance. 

We  returned  to  the  great  mosque,  which  we  had  visited  on  th€ 
evening  of  our  arrival,  and  listened  for  some  time  to  the  voice 


THE    MULETEERS.  263 

of  a  mollah  who  was  preaching  an  afternoon  sermon  to  a  email 
and  hungry  congregation.  "We  then  entered  tlie  court  before 
the  tomb  of  Hazret  Mevlana.  It  was  apparently  forbidden 
ground  to  Christians,  but  as  the  Dervishes  did  not  seen  to  sua- 
pect  us  we  walked  about  boldly,  and  were  about  to  enter,  when 
an  indiscretion  of  my  companion  frustrated  our  plans.  For 
getting  his  assumed  character,  he  went  to  the  fountain  and 
drank,  although  it  was  no  later  than  the  asser,  or  afternoon 
prayer.  The  Dervishes  were  shocked  and  scandalized  by  this 
violation  of  the  fast,  in  the  very  court-yard  of  their  holiest 
mosque,  and  we  judged  it  best  to  retire  by  degrees.  We  sent 
this  morning  to  request  an  interview  with  the  Pasha,  but  he 
had  gone  to  pass  the  day  in  a  country  palace,  about  three 
hours  distant.  It  is  a  still,  hot,  bright  afternoon,  and  the 
silence  of  the  famished  populace  disposes  us  to  repose.  Our 
view  is  bounded  by  the  mud  walls  of  the  khan,  and  I  already 
long  for  the  freedom  of  the  great  Karamanian  Plain.  Here, 
in  the  heart  of  Asia  Minor,  all  life  seems  to  stagnate.  Tliere 
is  sleep  everywhere,  and  I  feel  that  a  wide  barrier  separates 
me  from  the  living  world. 

We  have  been  detained  here  a  whole  day,  through  a  chain 
of  accidents,  all  resulting  from  the  rascality  of  our  muleteers 
on  leaving  Aleppo.  The  lame  horse  they  palmed  upon  us  was 
anable  to  go  further,  so  we  obliged  them  to  buy  another  ani- 
mal, which  they  succeeded  in  getting  for  350  piastres.  We 
advanced  the  money,  although  they  were  still  in  our  debt, 
hoping  to  work  our  way  through  with  the  new  horse,  and  thai 
avoid  the  risk  of  loss  or  delay.  But  this  morning  at  sunrise 
Hadji  Youssuf  comes  with  a  woeful  face  to  say  that  the  new 
horse  has  been  stolen  iu  the  ui^ht,  and  wc,  who  are  ready  to 


264  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

start,  must  sit  down  and  wait  till  he  is  recovered.  I  snspected 
another  trick,  but  when,  after  the  lapse  of  three  hours,  Fran- 
cois found  the  hadji  sitting  on  the  ground,  weeping,  and  Achmet 
beating  his  breast,  it  seemed  probable  that  the  story  was  true. 
All  search  for  the  horse  being  vain,  Frangois  went  with  them 
to  the  shekh  of  the  horses,  who  promised,  in  case  it  should 
hereafter  be  found,  to  place  it  in  the  general  pen,  where  they 
would  be  sure  to  get  it  on  their  return.  The  man  who  sold 
them  the  horse  offered  them  another  for  the  lame  one  and  150 
piastres,  and  there  was  no  other  alternative  but  to  accept  it. 
But  we  must  advance  the  150  piastres,  and  so,  in  mid-journey, 
we  have  already  paid  them  to  the  end,  with  the  risk  of  their 
horses  breaking  down ,  or  they,  horses  and  all,  absconding  from 
us.  But  ihe  knavish  varlets  are  hardly  bold  enough  for  8uci> 
a  t'llmax  of  villany. 


SOKKERY     OK     TUt:     HUiS.  205 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE     HEART     OF     ASIA     MINOR, 

Scenery  of  the  Hills— Ladik,  the  Ancient  Laotlkea— The  Plague  of  Oad-Files— Camp  at 
Ilgiin — A  Natural  Warm  Bath — The  Gad-Flies  Again — A  Summer  Landscape — Ak« 
Sheher— The  Base  of  Sultan  Dagh — The  Fountain  of  Midas — A  Drowsy  Journey— 
The  Town  of  Bolawadiin. 

"By  the  forests,  lakes,  and  fountains, 
Though  the  many-folded  mountains."  Sheixbt. 

BOLATTADCN,  JiUy  1, 1S52. 

Our  men  brougbt  all  the  beasts  into  the  court-yard  of  the 
khan  at  Konia,  the  evening  before  our  departure,  so  that  no 
more  were  stolen  during  the  night.  The  oda-bashi,  indefatiga- 
ble to  the  last  in  his  attention  to  us,  not  only  helped  load 
the  mules  but  accompanied  us  some  distance  on  our  way.  All 
the  merchants  in  the  khan  collected  in  the  gallery  to  see  us 
start,  and  we  made  our  exit  in  some  state.  The  morning  was 
clear,  fresh,  and  delightful.  Turning  away  from  the  city  walls, 
we  soon  emerged  from  the  lines  of  fruit-trees  and  interminable 
fields  of  tomb-stones,  and  came  out  upon  the  great  bare  plain 
of  Karamania.  A  ride  of  three  hours  brought  us  to  a  long, 
sloping  hill,  which  gave  us  a  view  of  the  whole  plain,  and  \U 
circuit  of  mountains.  A  dark  line  in  the  distance  marked  the 
gardens  of  Konia.     On  the  right,  near  the  centre  of  the  plain, 

12 


268  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

the  lake,  now  contracted  to  very  narrow  limits,  glimmered  in 
the  sun.  Notwithstanding  the  waste  and  unfertile  appearance 
of  the  country,  the  soft,  sweet  sky  that  hangs  over  it,  the 
pure,  transparent  air,  the  grand  sweep  of  the  plain,  and  the 
varied  forms  of  the  different  mountain  chains  that  encompass 
it,  make  our  journey  an  inspiring  one.  A  descent  of  the  hills 
soon  shut  out  the  view  ;  and  the  rest  of  the  day's  journey  lay 
among  them,  skirting  the  eastern  base  of  Allah  Dagh. 

The  country  improved  in  character,  as  we  advanced.  The 
bottoms  of  the  dry  glens  were  covered  with  wheat,  and  shrub- 
bery began  to  make  its  appearance  on  the  mountain-sides  In 
the  afternoon,  we  crossed  a  watershed,  dividing  Karamania 
from  the  great  central  plain  of  Asia  Minor,  and  descended  to  a 
village  called  Ladik,  occupying  the  site  of  the  ancient  Laodi- 
cea,  at  the  foot  of  Allah  Dagh.  The  plain  upon  which  we  came 
was  greener  and  more  flourishing  than  that  we  had  left.  Trees 
were  scattered  here  and  there  in  clumps,  and  the  grassy  wastes, 
stretching  beyond  the  grain-fields,  were  dotted  with  herds  of 
cattle.  Emir  Dagh  stood  in  the  north-west,  blue  and  distant^ 
while,  towards  the  north  and  north-east,  the  plain  extended  to 
the  horizon — a  horizon  fifty  miles  distant — without  a  break. 
In  that  direction  lay  the  great  salt  lake  of  Yiizler,  and  the 
Btrings  of  camels  we  met  on  the  road,  laden  with  salt,  were 
returning  from  it.  Ladik  is  surrounded  with  poppy-fields,  bril- 
liant with  white  and  purple  blossoms.  When  the  petals  have 
fallen,  the  natives  go  carefully  over  the  whole  field  and  mako 
inoisioHS  in  every  stalk,  whence  the  opium  exudes. 

"We  pitched  our  tent  under  a  large  walnut  tree,  which  wo 
found  standing  in  a  deserted  inclosure.  The  graveyard  of  the 
village  is  studded  with  relics  of  the  ancient  town.     There  ara 


THE     ANCIENT    LAODICEA,  261 

pillars,  cornices,  entablatures,  jambs,  altars,  muUions  and 
Bculptured  tablets,  all  of  white  marble,  ami  many  of  them  ii? 
an  excellent  state  of  preservation.  They  appear  to  date  from 
ilie  early  time  of  the  Lower  Empire,  and  the  cross  has  not  yet 
been  effaced  from  some  which  serve  as  head-stones  for  the  Truo 
Believers.  I  was  particularly  struck  with  the  abundance  of 
altars,  some  of  which  contained  entire  and  legible  inscriptions. 
In  the  town  tliere  is  the  same  abundance  of  ruins.  The  lid 
of  a  sarcophagus,  formed  of  a  single  block  of  marble,  now 
serves  as  a  water-trough,  and  the  fountain  is  constructed  of 
ancient  tablets.  The  town  stands  on  a  mound  which  appears 
to  be  composed  entirely  of  the  debris  of  the  former  place,  and 
near  the  summit  there  are  many  holes  which  the  inhabitants 
have  dug  in  their  search  for  rings,  seals  and  other  relics. 

The  next  day  we  made  a  journey  of  nine  hours  over  a  hilly 
country  lying  between  the  ranges  of  Allah  Dagh  and  Emir 
Dagh.  There  were  wells  of  excellent  water  along  the  road,  at 
intervals  of  an  hour  or  two.  The  day  was  excessively  hot  and 
sultry  during  the  noon  hours,  and  the  flies  were  so  bad  as  to 
give  great  inconvenience  to  our  horses.  The  animal  I  bestrode 
kicked  so  incessantly  that  I  could  scarcely  keep  my  seat.  His 
belly  was  swollen  and  covered  with  clotted  blood,  from  their 
bites.  The  hadji's  mule  began  to  show  symptoms  of  illness, 
and  we  had  great  difficulty  in  keeping  it  on  its  legs.  Mr. 
Harrison  bled  it  in  the  mouth,  as  a  last  resource,  and  during 
tie  afternoon  it  partly  recovered. 

An  hour  before  sunset  we  reached  Ilgiin,  a  town  on  the 
plain,  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  spurs  of  Emir  Dagh.  To  Iho 
west  of  it  there  is  a  lake  of  considerable  size,  which  receivea 
the  streams  that  flow  through  the  town  and  water  its  fertile 


268  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

gaidens.  We  passed  through  the  town  and  pitched  our  tent 
upon  a  beautiful  grassy  meadow.  Our  customary  pipe  of 
refreshment  was  never  moie  heartily  enjoyed  than  at  this  place. 
Behind  us  was  a  barren  hill,  at  the  foot  of  which  was  a  natural 
hot  bath,  wherein  a  number  of  women  and  children  were 
amusing  themselves.  The  afternoon  heat  had  passed  away,  the 
air  was  calm,  sweet,  and  tempered  with  the  freshness  of  coming 
evening,  and  the  long  shadows  of  the  hills,  creeping  over  the 
meadows,  had  almost  reached  the  town.  Beyond  the  line  of 
sycamore,  poplar  and  fig-trees  that  shaded  the  gardens  of 
Ilgiin,  rose  the  distant  chain  of  Allah  Dagh,  and  in  the  pale- 
blue  sky,  not  far  above  it,  the  din^  face  of  the  gibbous  moon 
showed  like  the  ghost  of  a  planet.  Our  horses  were  feeding 
on  the  green  meadow;  an  old  Turk  sat  beside  us,  silent  with 
fasting,  and  there  was  no  sound  but  the  shouts  of  the  children 
in  the  bath.  Such  hours  as  these,  after  a  day's  journey  made 
in  the  drowsy  heat  of  an  Eastern  summer,  are  indescribably 
grateful. 

After  the  women  had  retired  from  the  bath,  we  were  allowed 
to  enter.  The  interior  consisted  of  a  single  chamber,  thirty 
feet  high,  vaulted  and  almost  dark.  In  the  centre  was  a  largo 
basin  of  hot  water,  filled  by  four  streams  which  poured  into  it 
A  ledge  ran  aiound  the  sides,  and  niches  in  th'e  wall  supplied 
places  for  our  clothes.  The  bath-keeper  furnished  us  with 
towels,  and  we  undressed  and  plunged  in.  The  water  waa 
agreeably  warm  (about  90°),  had  a  sweet  taste,  and  a  very 
slight  siUphury  smell.  The  vaulted  hall  redoubled  the  slight- 
est noise,  and  a  shaven  Turk,  who  kept  us  company,  sang  in 
bis  delight,  that  he  might  hear  the  echo  of  his  own  voice 
When  we  went  back  to  the  tent  we  found  our  visitor  lying  ov 


THE     PLAGUE     OP    0A.D-FUE3.  269 

the  ground,  trying  to  stay  his  hunger  It  was  ratlier  too  bad 
in  us  to  light  our  pipes,  make  a  slicrbet  and  drinlf  and  smoke 
in  his  face,  while  we  joked  h\ru  about  the  Ramazaa  ;  and  he  at 
last  got  up  and  walked  off,  the  picture  of  distress. 

"We  made  an  early  start  the  next  morning,  and  rode  or; 
briskly  over  the  rolling,  grassy  hills.  A  beautiful  lake,  with 
an  island  in  it,  lay  at  the  foot  of  Emir  Dagh,  After  two  houra 
we  reached  a  guard-house,  where  our  teskeres  were  demanded, 
and  the  lazy  guardsman  invited  us  in  to  take  coffee,  that  he 
might  establish  a  right  to  the  backsheesh  which  he  could  not 
demand.  He  had  seen  us  afar  off,  and  the  coffee  was  smoking 
in  the  finjans  when  we  arrived.  The  sun  was  already  terribly 
hot,  and  the  large,  green  gad-flies  came  in  such  quantities  that 
I  seemed  to  be  riding  in  the  midst  of  a  swarm  of  bees.  My 
horse  suffered  very  much,  and  struck  out  his  hind  feet  so 
violently,  m  his  endeavors  to  get  rid  of  them,  that  he  racked 
every  joint  in  my  body.  They  were  not  content  with  suck- 
iLg  his  blood,  but  settling  on  the  small  segment  of  ray  calf, 
exposed  between  the  big  Tartar  boot  and  the  flowing  trowsers, 
bit  through  my  stockings  with  fierce  bills.  I  killed  hundreds 
of  them,  to  no  purpose,  and  at  last,  to  relieve  my  horse,  tied  a 
bunch  of  hawthorn  to  a  string,  by  which  I  swung  it  under  his 
belly  and  against  the  inner  side  of  his  flanks.  In  this  way  I 
gave  him  some  relief — a  service  which  he  acknowledged  by  a 
grateful  motion  of  his  head. 

As  we  descended  towards  Ak-Sheher  the  country  became 
exceedingly  rich  and  luxuriant.  The  range  of  Sultan  Dagh 
(the  Mountain  of  the  Sultan)  rose  on  our  left,  its  sides  covered 
with  a  thick  screen  of  shrubbery,  and  its  highest  peak  dotted 
with  patches  of  snow ;  opposite,  the  lower  range  of  Emir  Dagfc 


D70  THE  LANDS  OP  THE  SARACEK. 

(the  Mountain  of  the  Prince)  lay  blue  and  bare  in  the  sun 

shine.  The  base  of  Sultan  Dagh  was  girdled  with  groves  of 
fruit-trees,  stretching  out  in  long  lines  on  the  plain,  with  fields 
of  ripening  wheat  between.  In  the  distance  the  large  lake  of 
Ak-Sheher  glittered  in  the  sun.  Towards  the  north-west,  the 
plain  stretched  away  for  fifty  miles  before  reaching  the  hills. 
It  is  evidently  on  a  much  lower  level  than  the  plain  of  Konia  ; 
the  heat  was  not  only  greater,  but  the  season  was  further 
advanced.  Wheat  was  nearly  readj  for  cutting,  and  the 
poppy-fields  where,  the  day  previous,  the  men  were  making 
their  first  incisions  for  opium,  here  had  yielded  their  harvest 
and  were  fast  ripening  their  seed.  Ak-Sheher  is  beautifully 
situated  at  the  entrance  of  a  deep  gorge  in  the  mountains.  It 
is  so  buried  in  its  embowered  gardens  that  little,  except  the 
mosque,  is  seen  as  you  approach  it.  It  is  a  large  place,  and 
boasts  a  fine  mosque,  but  contains  nothing  worth  seeing.  The 
bazaar,  after  that  of  Konia,  was  the  largest  we  had  seen  since 
leaving  Tarsus.  The  greater  part  of  the  shopkeepers  lay  at 
full  length,  dozing,  sleeping,  or  staying  their  appetites  till  the 
sunset  gun.  We  found  some  superb  cherries,  and  plenty  of 
snow,  which  is  brought  down  from  the  mountain.  The 
natives  were  very  friendly  and  good-humored,  but  seemed  sur- 
prised at  Mr.  Harrison  tasting  the  che  ries,  although  I  told 
tliem  we  were  upon  a  journey.  Our  tent  was  pitched  under  a 
splendid  walnut  tree,  outside  of  the  tov/n.  The  green  mountain 
"ose  between  us  and  the  fading  sunset,  and  the  yellow  moon 
was  hanging  in  the  east,  as  we  took  our  dinner  at  the  tent« 
door.  Turks  were  riding  homewards  on  donkeys,  with  loads  of 
grass  which  they  had  been  cutting  in  the  meadows.  The  guc 
was  fired,  and  the  shouts  of  the  children  announced  the  close 


THE     BASE     OF     SULTAN     UAGH.  271 

of  the  day's  fast,  while  the  sweet,  melancholy  voice  of  a  boy 
muezzin  called  us  to  sunset  prayer,  from  the  minaret. 

Leaving  Ak-Shcher  this  morning,  we  rode  along  the  base 
of  Sultan  Dagh.  The  plain  which  we  overlooked  was  magnifi- 
cent. The  wilderness  of  shrubbery  which  fringed  the  slopes 
of  the  mountain  gave  place  to  great  orchards  and  gardens, 
interspersed  with  fields  of  grain,  which  extended  far  out  on 
the  plain,  to  the  wild  thickets  and  wastes  of  reeds  surrounding 
the  lake.  The  sides  of  Sultan  Dagh  were  terraced  and  culti* 
vated  wherever  it  was  practicable,  and  I  saw  some  fields  of 
wheat  high  up  on  the  mountain.  There  were  many  people 
in  the  road  or  laboring  in  the  fields  ;  and  during  the  forenoon 
we  passed  several  large  villages.  The  country  is  more  thickly 
inhabited,  and  has  a  more  thrifty  and  prosperous  air  than  any 
part  of  Asia  Minor  which  I  have  seen.  The  people  are  better 
clad,  have  more  open,  honest,  cheerful  and  intelligent  faces, 
and  exhibit  a  genuine  courtesy  and  good-will  in  their  demeanor 
towards  us.  I  never  felt  more  perfectly  secure,  or  more  certain 
of  being  among  people  whom  I  could  trust. 

We  passed  under  the  summit  of  Sultau  Dagh,  which  shone 
out  so  clear  and  distinct  in  the  morning  sun,  that  I  could 
Bcarcely  realize  its  actual  height  above  the  plain.  From  a  tre- 
mendous gorge,  cleft  between  the  two  higher  peaks,  issued  a 
large  stream,  which,  divided  into  a  hundred  channels,  fertilizes 
a  wide  extent  of  plain.  About  two  hours  from  Ak-Sheher  we 
passed  a  splendid  fountain  of  crystal  water,  gushing  up  beside 
the  road.  I  believe  it  is  the  same  called  by  some  travellers 
the  Fountain  of  Midas,  but  am  ignorant  wherefore  the  name  is 
given  it.  We  rode  for  several  hours  through  a  succession  of 
grand,  rich  landscapes.     A  smaller  lake  succeeded  to  that  ol 


272  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Ak-Sheher,  Emir  Dagli  rose  higher  in  the  pale-blue  sky,  and 
Sultan  Dagh  showed  other  peaks,  broken  and  striped  with 
snow  ;  but  around  us  were  the  same  glorious  orchards  and 
gardens,  the  same  golden-green  wheat  and  rustling  phalanxes 
of  poppies — armies  of  vegetable  Round-heads,  beside  the 
bristling  and  bearded  Cavaliers.  The  sun  was  intensely  hot 
during  the  afternoon,  as  we  crossed  the  plain,  and  I  became  so 
drowsed  that  it  required  an  agony  of  exertion  to  keep  from 
tumbling  off  my  horse.  We  here  left  the  great  post-road  to 
Constantinople,  and  took  a  less  frequented  track.  The  plain 
gradually  became  a  meadow,  covered  with  shrub  cypress,  flags, 
reeds,  and  wild  water-plants.  There  were  vast  wastes  of  luxu- 
riant grass,  whereon  thousands  of  black  buffaloes  were  feeding. 
A  stone  causeway,  containing  many  elegant  fragments  of 
ancient  sculpture,  extended  across  this  part  of  the  plain,  but 
we  took  a  summer  jjath  beside  it,  through  beds  of  iris  in  bloom 
— a  fragile  snowy  blossom,  with  a  lip  of  the  clearest  golden 
hue.  The  causeway  led  to  a  bare  salt  plain,  beyond  which  we 
came  to  the  town  of  Bolawadiin,  and  terminated  our  day'3 
journey  of  forty  miles. 

Bolawadiin  is  a  collection  of  mud  houses,  about  a  mile  loner, 
situated  on  an  eminence  at  the  western  base  of  Emir  Dagh. 
I  went  into  the  bazaar,  which  was  a  small  place,  and  not  very 
well  supplied,  though,  as  it  was  near  sunset,  there  was  quite  a 
crowd  of  people,  and  the  bakers  were  shovelling  out  their 
fresh  bread  at  a  brisk  rate.  Every  one  took  me  for  a 
good  Egyptian  Mohammedan,  and  I  was  jostled  right  and  left 
among  the  turbans,  in  a  manner  that  certainly  would  not  have 
happened  rac  had  I  not  also  worn  one.  Mr.  11.,  who  had 
fallen  behind  the  caravan,  came  up  after  we  liad  encamped. 


BOLAWADUK.  273 

and  migpht  have  wandered  a  long  time  without  finding  us,  bu* 
for  the  good-natured  efforts  of  the  inhabitants  to  set  hira 
aright.  Tliis  evening  he  knocked  over  a  hedgehog,  aiistaking 
it  for  a  cat.  The  poor  creature  was  severely  hurt,  and  its  sob? 
of  distress,  precisely  like  those  of  a  little  child,  were  to  painful 
to  hear,  that  we  were  obliged  to  have  it  removed  from  tbe 
vicicity  of  the  tent 


274  THE   LANDS  o?  i::e   saracbn. 


CHAPTER    XXIL 

THE     FORESTS     OF     PHRYGIA. 

Tti<  Frontier  of  Phrygia — Ancient  Quarries  and  Tombs — We  Enter  the  Pine  Forests — A 
Guard-House — Encampments  of  the  Turcomans — Pastoral  Scenery — A  Summer  Vll- 
lage — The  Valley  of  the  Tombs — Rock  Sepulchres  of  the  Phrygian  Kings — The  Titan'l 
Camp^The  Valley  of  Kiimbeh — A  Land  of  Flowers — Turcoman  Hospitality — The 
Exiled  Effendis — The  Old  Turcoman — A  Glimpse  of  Arcadia — A  Landscape — Inter- 
ested Friendship — The  Valley  of  the  Pursek — Arrival  at  Kiutahya. 

"And  round  us  all  the  thicket  rang 
To  many  a  flute  of  Arcady."  Tenntsoii. 

KiUTAHTA,  July  5, 1S52. 

We  had  now  passed  tlirongb  the  ancient  provinces  of  Cilicia, 
Cappadocia,  and  Lycaonia,  and  reached  the  confines  of  Phrygia 
• — a  rude  mountain  region,  which  was  never  wholly  penetrated 
by  the  light  of  Grecian  civilization.  It  is  still  comparatively 
a  wilderness,  pierced  but  by  a  single  high-road,  and  almost 
unvisited  by  travellers,  yet  inclosing  in  its  depths  many  curious 
relics  of  antiquity.  Leaving  Bolawadiin  in  the  morning,  we 
ascended  a  long,  treeless  mountain-slope,  and  in  three  or  four 
hours  reached  the  dividing  ridge — the  watershed  of  Asia 
Minor,  dividing  the  affluents  of  the  Mediterranean  and  the 
central  lakes  from  the  streams  that  flow  to  the  Black  Sea. 
Looking  back.  Sultan  Dagh,  along  whose  base  we  had  travelled 
.he    previous   day,   lay    high   and   blue   in   the   background, 


ANCrENT     QUARRIES     AND    TOMBS.  275 

streaked  with  sliininj^  snow,  and  far  away  behiiid  it  arose 
a  still  higher  peak,  hoary  with  tlic  lingering  winter.  We 
descended  into  a  grassy  plain,  shut  in  ly  a  range  of  broken 
mountains,  covered  to  their  summits  with  dark-green  shrul> 
bery,  through  which  the  strata  of  marble  rock  gleamed  like 
patches  of  snow.  The  hills  in  front  were  scarred  with  old 
quarries,  once  worked  for  the  celebrated  Phrygian  marble 
There  was  neither  a  habitation  nor  a  human  being  to  be  seen, 
and  the  landscape  had  a  singularly  wild,  lonely,  and  pictu- 
resque air. 

Turning  westward,  we  crossed  a  high  rolling  tract,  and 
entered  a  valley  entirely  covered  with  dwarf  oaks  and  cedars. 
In  spite  of  the  dusty  road,  the  heat,  and  the  multitude  of  gad- 
flies, the  journey  presented  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the  great 
plains  over  which  we  had  been  travelling  for  many  days.  The 
opposite  side  of  the  glen  was  crowned  with  a  tall  crest  of  sliat- 
tered  rock,  in  which  were  many  old  Phrygian  tombs.  They 
were  mostly  simple  cliambers,  with  square  apertures.  There 
were  traces  of  many  more,  the  rock  having  been  blown  up  or 
quarried  down — the  tombs,  instead  of  protecting  it,  only  fur- 
nishing one  facility  the  more  for  destruction.  After  an  hour's 
rest  at  a  fountain,  we  threaded  the  windings  of  the  glen  to  a 
lower  plain,  quite  shut  in  by  the  hills,  whose  ribs  of  marble 
showed  through  tlie  forests  of  oak,  holly,  cedar,  and  pine,  which 
dotted  thera.  We  were  now  fully  entered  into  the  hill-country, 
and  our  road  passed  over  heights  and  through  hollows  covered 
with  picturesque  clumps  of  foliage.  It  resembled  some  of  the 
wild  western  downs  of  America,  and,  but  for  the  Phrygian 
tombs,  whose  doorways  stared  at  us  from  every  rock,  seemed 
as  little  famihar  with  the  presence  of  Man. 


276  THK  LANDS  OP  THE  SARACEN. 

Hadji  Youssuf,  in  stopping  to  arrange  some  of  the  baggage, 
lost  his  hold  of  his  mule,  and  in  spite  of  every  effort  to  secure 
her,  the  provoking  beast  kept  her  liberty  for  the  rest  of  the 
day.  In  vain  did  we  head  her  off,  chase  her,  coax  her,  set 
traps  for  her  :  she  was  too  cunning  to  be  taken  in,  and 
marched  along  at  her  ease,  running  into  every  field  of  grain, 
stopping  to  crop  the  choicest  bunches  of  grass,  or  walking 
demurely  in  the  caravan,  allowing  the  hadji  to  come  within 
arm's  length  before  she  kicked  up  her  heels  and  dashed  away 
again.  We  had  a  long  chase  through  the  clumps  of  oak  and 
holly,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  The  great  green  gad-flies 
swarmed  around  us,  biting  myself  as  well  as  my  horse. 
Hecatombs,  crushed  by  my  whip,  dropped  dead  in  the  dust, 
but  the  ranks  were  immediately  filled  from  some  invisible 
reserve.  The  soil  was  no  longer  bare,  but  entirely  covered 
with  grass  and  flowers.  In  one  of  the  valleys  I  saw  a  large 
patch  of  the  crimson  larkspur,  so  thick  as  to  resemble  a  pool 
of  blood.  While  crossing  a  long,  hot  hill,  we  came  upon  a 
little  arbor  of  stones,  covered  with  pine  branches.  It  inclosed 
an  ancient  sarcophagus  of  marble,  nearly  filled  with  water. 
Beside  it  stood  a  square  cup,  with  a  handle,  rudely  hewn  out 
of  a  piece  of  pine  wood.  This  was  a  charitable  provision  for 
travellers,  and  constantly  supplied  by  the  Turcomans  who  lived 
in  the  vicinity. 

The  last  two  hours  of  our  journey  that  day  were  through  a 
glorious  forest  of  pines.  The  road  lay  in  a  winding  glen,  green 
and  grassy,  and  covered  to  the  summits  on  both  sides  with 
beautiful  pine  trees,  intermixed  with  cedar.  The  air  had  the 
true  northern  aroma,  and  was  more  grateful  than  wine,  E  very 
turn  of  the  glen  disclosed  a  charming  woodland  view.     It  was 


THE    GOARD-HOUSE.  271 

a  wild  valley  ol  the  northern  hills,  filled  with  the  burning 
lustre  of  a  suraaier  sun,  and  canopied  by  the  brilliant  blue  of 
a  summer  sky.  There  were  signs  of  the  woodman's  axe,  and 
the  charred  embers  of  forest  camp-fires.  I  thought  of  the 
Icrely  canadas  in  the  pine  forests  behind  Monterey,  and  could 
really  have  imagined  myself  there.  Towards  evening  we  reached 
a  solitary  guard-house,  on  the  edge  of  the  forest.  The  glen 
here  opened  a  little,  and  a  stone  fountain  of  delicious  water 
furnished  all  that  we  wanted  for  a  camping-place.  The  house 
was  inhabited  by  three  soldiers  ;  sturdy,  good-humored  fellows, 
who  immediately  spread  a  mat  in  the  shade  for  us  and  made  ua 
some  excellent  coffee.  A  Turcoman  encampment  in  the  neigh- 
horhood  supplied  us  with  milk  and  eggs. 

The  guardsmen  were  good  Mussulmans,  and  took  us  for  the 
same.  One  of  them  asked  me  to  let  him  know  when  the  sun 
was  down,  and  I  prolonged  his  fast  until  it  was  quite  dark, 
when  I  gave  him  permission  to  eat.  They  all  had  tolerable 
stallions  for  their  service,  and  seemed  to  live  pleasantly  enough, 
in  their  wild  way.  The  fat,  stumpy  corporal,  with  his  enor- 
mously broad  pantaloons  and  automaton  legs,  went  down  to 
the  fountain  with  his  musket,  and  after  taking  a  rest  and 
pighting  full  five  minutes,  fired  at  a  dove  without  hitting  it. 
He  afterwards  joined  us  in  a  social  pipe,  and  we  sat  on  a  car- 
pet at  the  door  of  the  guard-house,  watching  the  splendid 
moonrise  through  the  pine  boughs.  When  the  pipes  had 
bnrned  out  I  went  to  bed,  and  slept  a  long,  sweet  sleep  until 
dawn. 

We  knew  that  the  tombs  of  the  Phrygian  Kings  could  not 
be  far  oflT,  and,  on  making  inquiries  of  the  corporal,  found  that 
te  knew  the  place.    It  was  not  four  hours  distant,  by  a  by-road 


278  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

and  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  reach  it  without  a  guide,  h« 
would  give  us  one  of  his  men,  in  consideration  of  a  fee  of 
twenty  piastres.  The  difficulty  was  evident,  in  a  hilly,  wooded 
country  like  this,  traversed  by  a  labyrinth  of  valleys  any} 
ravines,  and  so  we  accepted  the  soldier.  As  we  were  aboul 
leaving,  an  old  Turcoman,  whose  beard  was  dyed  a  bright  red, 
came  up,  saying  that  he  knew  Mr.  11.  was  a  physician,  and 
could  cure  him  of  his  deafness.  The  morning  air  was  sweet 
with  the  breath  of  cedar  and  pine,  and  we  rode  on  through  the 
woods  and  over  the  open  turfy  glades,  in  high  spirits.  We 
were  in  the  heart  of  a  mountainous  country,  clothed  with  ever- 
green forests,  except  some  open  upland  tracts,  which  showed  a 
thick  green  turf,  dotted  all  over  with  park-like  clumps,  and 
single  great  trees.  The  piues  were  noble  trunks,  often  sixty 
to  eighty  feet  high,  and  with  boughs  disposed  in  all  possible 
picturesqueness  of  form.  The  cedar  frequently  showed  a  solid 
white  bole,  three  feet  in  diameter. 

We  took  a  winding  footpath,  often  a  mere  track,  striking 
across  the  hills  iri  a  northern  direction.  Everywhere  we  met 
the  Turks  of  the  plain,  who  are  now  encamped  in  the  moun- 
tains, to  tend  their  flocks  through  the  summer  months.  Herds 
of  sheep  and  goats  were  scattered  over  the  green  pasture-slopes, 
and  the  idle  herd-boys  basked  in  the  morning  sun,  playing 
lively  airs  on  a  reed  flute,  resembling  the  Arabic  zumarra. 
Here  and  there  was  a  woodman,  busy  at  a  recently  felled  tree, 
and  we  met  several  of  the  creaking  carts  of  the  country,  haul- 
ing logs  All  that  we  saw  had  a  pleasant  rural  air,  a  smack 
of  i)rimitive  and  unsophisticated  life.  From  the  higher  ridges 
over  which  we  passed,  we  could  see,  far  to  the  east  and  west, 
other  ranges  of  pine-covered  mountains,  and  in  the  distance 


A    TURCOMAN    VILLAGE  279 

tbo  cloudy  lines  of  loftier  chains.  The  trunks  of  the  pinei 
were  nearly  all  charred,  and  many  of  the  smaller  trees  dead, 
from  the  fires  which,  later  in  the  year,  rage  in  these  forests. 

After  four  hours  of  varied  and  most  inspiring  travel,  wo 
reached  a  district  covered  for  the  most  part  with  oak  woods — a 
more  open  though  still  mountainous  region.  Tiicrc  was  a  sun> 
uier  village  of  Turks  scattered  over  the  nearest  slope — proI)a- 
bly  fifty  houses  in  all,  almost  perfect  counterparts  of  Western 
log-cabins.  They  were  bnilt  of  pine  logs,  laid  crosswise,  and 
covered  with  rough  boards.  These,  as  we  were  told,  were  the 
dwellings  of  the  people  who  inhabit  the  village  of  Khosref 
Pasha  Khan  during  the  winter.  Great  numbers  of  sheep  and 
goats  were  browsing  over  the  hills  or  lying  around  the  doors 
of  the  houses.  The  latter  were  beautiful  creatures,  with  heavy, 
curved  horns,  and  long,  white,  silky  hair,  that  entirely  hid  their 
eyes.  We  stopped  at  a  house  for  water,  which  the  man 
brought  out  in  a  little  cask.  He  at  first  proposed  giving  us 
yaourt,  and  his  wife  suggested  Ica'imok  (sweet  curds),  which  we 
agreed  to  take,  but  it  proved  to  be  only  boiled  milk. 

Leaving  the  village,  we  took  a  path  leading  westward, 
mounted  a  long  hill,  and  again  entered  the  pine  forests. 
Before  long,  we  came  to  a  well-built  country-house,  somewhat 
resembling  a  Swiss  cottage.  It  was  two  stories  high,  and 
there  was  an  upper  balcony,  with  cushioned  divans,  overlook- 
ing a  thriving  garden-patch  and  some  fruit-trees.  Three  or 
four  men  were  weeding  in  the  garden,  and  the  owner  came  np 
and  welcomed  us.  A  fountain  of  ice-cold  water  gushed  into  a 
Btonc  trough  at  the  door,  making  a  tempting  spot  for  our 
breakfast,  but  we  were  bent  on  reaching  the  tombs.  There 
were  convenient  out-houses  for  fowls,  sheep,  and  cattle.     The 


280  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

herds  were  out,  grazing  along  the  edges  of  the  forest,  and  we 
heard  the  shrill,  joyous  melodies  of  the  flutes  blown  by  the 
herd-boys. 

We  now  reached  a  ridge,  whence  we  looked  down  through 
the  forest  upon  a  long  valley,  nearly  half  a  mile  wide,  and  bor- 
dered on  the  opposite  side  by  ranges  of  broken  sandstone 
crags.  This  was  th»>-  place  we  sought — the  Valley  of  the 
Phrygian  Tombs.  Already  we  could  distinguish  the  hewn 
faces  of  the  rocks,  and  the  dark  apertures  to  the  chambers 
within.  The  bottom  of  the  valley  was  a  bed  of  glorious 
grass,  blazoned  with  flowers,  and  redolent  of  all  vernal 
smells.  Several  peasants,  finding  it  too  hot  to  mow,  had 
thrown  their  scythes  along  the  swarths,  and  were  lying 
in  the  shade  of  an  oak.  We  rode  over  the  new-cut  hay, 
up  the  opposite  side,  and  dismounted  at  the  face  of  the 
crags.  As  we  approached  them,  the  number  of  chambers 
hewn  in  the  rock,  the  doors  and  niches  now  open  to  the 
day,  surmounted  by  shattered  spires  and  turrets,  gave  the 
whole  mass  the  appearance  of  a  grand  fortress  in  ruins.  The 
crags,  which  are  of  a  very  soft,  reddish-gray  sandstone, 
rise  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  from  their  base,  and  their  sum- 
mits are  worn  by  the  weather  into  the  most  remarkable 
forms. 

The  principal  monument  is  a  broad,  projecting  cliflF,  one 
side  of  which  has  been  cut  so  as  to  resemble  the  fa9ade  of  a 
temi)le.  The  sculptured  part  is  about  sixty  feet  high  by  sixty 
in  breadth,  and  represents  a  solid  wall  with  two  pilasters 
nt  the  ends,  upholding  an  architrave  and  pediment,  which 
IS  surmounted  by  two  large  volutes.  The  whole  face  of  the 
wall  is  cpvered  with  ornameuts  resembling  pauel-work,  not  in 


8EPUIXHRE3    OF   TBE    PHRYGIAN    KIWG3  i81 

regular  sqnarcs,  but  a  labyrinth  of  intricate  designs  In 
the  centre,  at  the  bottom,  is  a  shallow  square  recess,  sur 
rounded  by  an  elegant,  though  plain  moulding,  but  there  is  lu 
appearance  of  an  entrance  to  the  sepulchral  chamber,  which 
may  be  hidden  in  the  heart  of  the  rock.  There  is  an  inscri|> 
tion  in  Greek  running  up  one  side,  but  it  is  of  a  later  date 
than  the  work  itself.  On  one  of  the  tombs  there  is  an  inscrip- 
tion :  "  To  King  Midas."  These  relics  are  supposed  to  date 
from  the  period  of  the  Gordian  Dynasty,  about  seven  centu- 
ries before  Christ. 

A  little  in  front  of  a  headland,  formed  by  the  summit  walls 
of  two  meeting  valleys,  rises  a  mass  of  rocks  one  hundred  feet 
high,  cut  into  sepulchral  chambers,  story  above  story,  with 
the  traces  of  steps  between  them,  leading  to  others  still  higher. 
The  whole  rock,  which  may  be  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long 
by  fifty  feet  broad,  has  been  scooped  out,  leaving  but  narrow 
partitions  to  separate  the  chambers  of  the  dead.  These  cham- 
bers are  all  plain,  but  some  are  of  very  elegant  proportions, 
with  arched  or  pyramidal  roofs,  and  arched  recesses  at  the 
Bides,  containing  sarcophagi  hewn  in  the  solid  stone.  There 
are  also  many  niches  for  cinerary  urns.  The  principal  tomb 
had  a  portico,  supported  by  columns,  but  the  front  is  now 
entirely  hurled  down,  and  only  the  elegant  panelling  and  stone 
joists  of  the  ceiling  remain.  The  entire  hill  was  a  succession 
of  tombs  There  is  not  a  rock  which  does  not  bear  traces  of 
them.  I  might  have  counted  several  hundred  within  a  stone's 
throw.  The  position  of  these  curious  remains  in  a  lonely 
/alley,  shut  in  on  all  sides  by  dark,  pine-covered  mountains- 
two  of  which  are  cron-ncd  with  a  natural  acrojiolis  of  rock, 
resembling  a  fortress  —increases  the  interest  with  which  thej 


282  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Inspire  the  beholder.  The  valley  on  the  western  side,  with  ita 
bed  of  ripe  wheat  in  the  bottom,  its  tall  walls,  towers,  and 
pinnacles  of  rock,  and  its  distant  vista  of  mountain  and  forest, 
IS  the  most  picturesqne  in  Phrygia. 

The  Turcoman  reapers,  who  came  up  to  see  us  and  talk  with 
ns,  said  that  there  were  the  remains  of  walls  on  the  summit  of 
the  principal  acropolis  opposite  us,  and  that,  further  up  the 
valley,  there  was  a  chamber  with  two  columns  in  front. 
Mr.  Harrison  and  I  saddled  and  rode  off,  passing  along 
a  wall  of  fantastic  rock-turrets,  at  the  base  of  which  was 
a  natural  column,  about  ten  feet  high,  and  five  in  diameter 
almost  perfectly  round,  and  upholding  an  immense  reck, 
shaped  like  a  cocked  hat.  In  crossing  the  meadow  we  saw 
a  Turk  sitting  in  the  sun  beside  a  spring,  and  busily  engaged 
in  knitting  a  stocking.  After  a  ride  of  two  miles  we  found 
the  chamber,  hewn  like  the  facade  of  a  temple  in  an  isolated 
rock,  overlooking  two  valleys  of  wild  meadow-land.  The 
pediment  and  cornice  were  simple  and  beautiful,  but  the 
columns  had  been  broken  away.  The  chambers  were  perfectly 
plain,  but  the  panel-work  on  the  ceiling  of  the  portico  was 
entire. 

After  passing  three  hours  in  examining  these  tonibs,  we 
took  the  track  which  our  guide  pointed  out  as  the  road  to 
Kiutahya.  We  rode  two  hours  through  the  forest,  and  came 
out  upon  a  wooded  height,  overlooking  a  grand,  open  valley, 
rich  in  grain-fields  and  pasture  land.  While  I  was  contemplat- 
ting  this  lovely  view,  the  road  turned  a  corner  of  the  ridge, 
and  lo  1  before  me  there  appeared  (as  I  thought),  above  the 
tops  of  the  pines,  high  up  on  the  mountain  side,  a  line  of  enor- 
mous  tents..     Those  snow-white  cones,  uprearing  their  sharp 


THE  titan's  camp.  283 

ppirM,  and  spreading  out  their  broad  bases — what  could  tli(;y  be 
but  an  -encampment  of  monster  tents  ?  Yet  no  ;  they  werft 
pinnacles  of  white  rock — perfect  cones,  from  thirty  to  one  hun- 
dred feet  In  height,  twelve  in  all,  and  ranged  side  by  side  along 
the  edge  of  the  cliff,  with  the  precision  of  a  military  camp. 
They  were  snow-white,  perfectly  smooth  and  full,  and  their 
bases  touched.  What  made  the  spectacle  more  singular,  there 
was  no  other  appearance  of  the  same  rock  on  the  mountain. 
All  around  them  was  the  dark-green  of  the  pines,  out  of  which 
tlyjy  rose  like  drifted  horns  of  unbroken  snow.  I  named  this 
singular  phenomenon — which  seems  to  have  escaped  the 
notice  of  travellers — The  Titan's  Camp. 

In  another  hour  we  reached  a  fountain  near  the  village  of 
Kiimbeh,  and  pitched  our  tents  for  the  night.  The  village, 
which  is  half  a  mile  in  length,  is  built  upon  a  singular  crag, 
which  shoots  up  abruptly  from  the  centre  of  the  valley,  rising 
at  one  extremity  to  a  height  of  more  than  a  hundred  feet.  It 
was  entirely  deserted,  the  inhabitants  having  all  gone  off  to 
the  mountains  with  their  herds.  The  solitary  muezzin,  who 
cried  the  mughreb  at  the  close  of  the  fast,  and  lighted  the 
lamps  on  his  minaret,  went  through  with  his  work  iu  most 
anclerical  haste,  now  that  there  was  no  one  to  notice  him.  We 
sent  Achmet,  the  katiirgce,  to  the  mountain  camp  of  the  villa- 
gora,  to  procure  a  suj)ply  of  fowls  and  barley. 

We  rose  very  early  yesterday  morning,  shivering  in  the  <;old 
air  of  the  mountains,  and  just  as  the  sun,  bursting  through  the 
pines,  looked  down  the  little  hollow  where  our  tents  were 
pitched,  set  the  caravan  in  motion.  The  ride  down  the  valley 
was  charming.  The  land  was  naturally  rich  and  highly  cnlti- 
r«4ed,  which  made  its  desertion  the  more  singular.     Leagues 


284  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

of  wheat,  rye  and  poppies  spread  aroand  us,  left  for  the  snmmei 
warmth  to  do  its  silent  work.  The  dew  sparkled  on  the  fields 
as  we  rode  through  them,  and  the  splendor  of  the  flDwers  iu 
blossom  was  equal  to  that  of  the  plains  of  Palestine.  There 
were  purple,  white  and  scarlet  poppies  ;  the  rich  crimson  lark- 
spur ;  the  red  anemone  ;  the  golden  daisy  ;  the  pink  convolvu- 
lus ;  and  a  host  of  smaller  blooms,  so  intensely  bright  and 
dazzling  in  their  hues,  that  the  meadows  were  richer  than  a 
pavement  of  precious  jewels.  To  look  towards  the  sun,  over 
a  field  of  scarlet  poppies,  was  like  looking  on  a  bed  of  live 
coals  ;  the  light,  striking  through  the  petals,  made  them  burn 
as  with  an  inward  fire.  Out  of  this  wilderness  of  gorgeous 
color,  rose  the  tall  spires  of  a  larger  plant,  covered  with  great 
yellcw  flowers,  while  here  and  there  the  snowy  blossoms  of  a 
clump  of  hawthorn  sweetened  the  morning  air. 

A  short  distance  beyond  Kiimbeh,  we  passed  another  group 
of  ancient  tombs,  one  of  which  was  of  curious  design.  An 
isolated  rock,  thirty  feet  in  height  by  twenty  in  diameter,  wag 
cut  so  as  to  resemble  a  triangular  tower,  with  the  apex  bevelled. 
A  chamber,  containing  a  sarcophagus,  was  hewn  out  of  the 
interior.  The  entrance  was  ornamented  with  double  columns 
in  bas-relief,  and  a  pediment.  There  was  another  arched 
chamber,  cut  directly  through  the  base  of  the  triangle,  with  a 
niche  on  each  side,  hollowed  out  at  the  bottom  so  as  to  form  a 
sarcophagus. 

Leaving  these,  the  last  of  the  Phrygian  tombs,  we  struck 
across  the  valley  and  ascended  a  high  range  of  hills,  covered 
with  pine,  to  an  upland,  wooded  region.  Here  we  found  a 
Buramer  village  of  log  cabins,  scattered  over  a  grassy  slope 
The  people  regarded  us  with  some  curiosity,  and  the  women 


THE    EXILED    EFFENDIS.  285 

hastily  concealed  their  faces.  Mr.  H.  rode  up  to  a  large  ne^r 
house,  and  peeped  in  between  the  logs.  There  were  several 
women  inside,  who  started  up  in  great  confusion  and  threw 
over  their  heads  whatever  article  was  most  convenient.  An 
old  man,  with  a  long  white  beard,  neatly  dressed  in  a  green 
jacket  and  shawl  turban,  came  out  and  welcomed  us.  I  asked 
for  kdimak,  which  he  promised,  and  immediately  brought  out  a 
carpet  and  spread  it  on  the  ground.  Then  followed  a  large 
basin  of  kaimak,  with  wooden  spoons,  three  loaves  of  bread, 
and  a  plate  of  cheese.  We  seated  ourselves  on  the  carpet,  and 
delved  in  with  the  spoons,  while  the  old  man  retired  lest  his 
appetite  should  be  provoked.  The  milk  was  excellent,  nor 
were  the  bread  and  cheese  to  be  despised. 

While  we  were  eating,  the  Khowagce,  or  schoolmaster  of  the 
commuility,  a  genteel  little  man  iu  a  round  white  turban,  cama 
up  to  inquire  of  Fran9ois  who  we  were.  "  That  effendi  iu  the 
blue  dress,"  said  he,  "  is  the  Bey,  is  he  not  ?"  "  Yes,"  said  F. 
"  And  the  other,  with  the  striped  shirt  and  white  turban,  is  a 
writer  ?"  [Here  he  was  not  far  wrong.]  "  But  how  is  it  that 
the  effendis  do  not  speak  Turkish  ?"  he  persisted.  "  Because," 
said  Fran9ois,  "  their  fathers  were  exiled  by  Sultan  Mahmoud 
when  they  were  small  children.  They  have  grown  up  in 
Aleppo  like  Arabs,  and  have  not  yet  learned  Turkish  ;  but 
God  grant  that  the  Sultan  may  not  turn  his  face  away  from 
them,  and  that  they  may  regain  the  rank  their  fathers  once  had 
iu  Stamboul."  "  God  grant  it  !"  replied  the  Khowagee, 
greatly  interested  iu  the  story.  By  this  time  we  had  eaten  our 
full  share  of  the  kaimak,  which  was  finished  by  Fran9ois  and 
the  katurgees.  The  old  man  now  came  up,  mounted  on  a 
duu  mare,  stating  that  he  was  bound  for  Kintahya,  and  waa 


286  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

Delighted  with  the  prospect  of  travelling  in  such  good  jompany 
I  gave  one  of  his  young  children  some  money,  as  the  ka'iraak 
was  tendered  out  of  pure  hospitality,  and  so  we  rode  oS". 

Our  new  companion  was  armed  to  the  teeth,  having  a  long  gun 
with  a  heavy  wooden  stock  and  nondescript  lock,  and  a  sword 
of  excellent  metal.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  weapon  of  the  old  Greek 
empire,  and  the  cross  was  still  enamelled  in  gold  at  the  root  of 
the  blade,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  scratch  it  out.  He  wa8 
something  of  difakeer,  having  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  and 
Jerusalem.  He  was  very  inquisitive,  plying  Francois  with 
questions  about  the  government.  The  latter  answered  that 
we  were  not  connected  with  the  government,  but  the  old  fellow 
shrewdly  hinted  that  he  knew  better — we  were  persons  of  rank, 
travelling  incognito.  He  was  very  attentive  to  us,  offering  us 
water  at  every  fountain,  although  he  believed  us  to  be  good 
Mussulmans.  We  found  him  of  some  service  as  a  guide,  short- 
ening our  road  by  taking  by-paths  through  the  woods. 

For  several  hours  we  traversed  a  beautifully  wooded  region 
of  hills.  Graceful  clumps  of  pine  shaded  the  grassy  knolls, 
where  the  sheep  and  silky-haired  goats  were  basking  at  rest, 
and  the  air  was  filled  with  a  warm,  summer  smell,  blown  from 
the  banks  of  golden  broom.  Now  and  then,  from  the  thickets 
of  laurel  and  arbutus,  a  shrill  shepherd's  reed  piped  some 
joyous  woodland  melody.  Was  it  a  Faun,  astray  among  tho 
hills  ?  Green  dells,  open  to  the  sunshine,  and  beautiful  aa 
dreams  of  Arcady,  divided  the  groves  of  pine.  The  sky  over- 
head was  pure  and  cloudless,  clasping  the  landscape  with  itL  belt 
of  peace  and  silence.  Oh,  that  delightful  region,  haunted  by 
all  the  bright  spirits  of  the  immortal  Grecian  Song  1  Chased 
away  from  the  rest  of  the  earth,  here  they  have  found  a  home 


A     PHRYGIAN     LANDSCAPE,  287 

— here  secret  altars  remain  to  them  from  the  times  that  ar« 
departed  ! 

Out  of  these  woods,  we  passed  into  a  lonely  plain,  inclosed 
by  piny  hills  that  brightened  in  the  thin,  pure  ether.  In  the 
distance  were  some  shepherds'  tents,  and  musical  goat-bells  tin- 
kled along  the  edges  of  the  woods.  From  the  crest  of  a  lofty 
ridge  beyond  this  jilain,  wc  looked  back  over  the  wild  solitudea 
wherein  we  had  been  travelling  for  two  days — long  ranges  of 
dark  hills,  fading  away  behind  each  other,  with  a  perspective 
that  hinted  of  the  hidden  gulfs  between.  From  the  western 
slope,  a  still  more  extensive  prospect  opened  before  us.  Over 
ridges  covered  with  forests  of  oak  and  pine,  we  saw  the  valley  of 
the  Pursek,  the  ancient  Thymbrius,  stretching  far  away  to  the 
misty  line  of  Keshish  Dagh.  The  mountains  behind  Kiutahya 
loomed  up  high  and  grand,  making  a  fine  feature  in  the  middle 
distance.  We  caught  but  fleeting  glimpses  of  the  view  through 
the  trees  ;  and  then,  plunging  into  the  forest  again,  descended 
to  a  cultivated  slope,  whereon  there  was  a  little  village,  now 
doBerted.  The  grave-yard  beside  it  was  shaded  with  large 
r»dar-trees,  and  near  it  there  was  a  fountain  of  excellent  water, 
*'  Here,"  said  the  old  man,  "  you  can  wash  and  pray,  and  then 
rest  awhile  under  the  trees."  Fran(;ois  excused  us  by  saying 
that,  wliile  on  a  journey,  we  always  bathed  before  praying  ; 
but,  not  to  slight  his  faith  entirely,  I  washed  ray  hands  and  face 
before  sitting  down  to  our  scanty  breakfast  of  bread  and 
water. 

Our  path  now  led  down  through  long,  winding  glens,  over 
grown  with  oaks,  from  which  the  wild  yellow  honeysuckles  feil 
in  a  shoM  5r  of  blossoms.  As  we  drew  near  the  valley,  the  old 
tnan  began  to  hint  that  his  presence  had  been  of  p^rcat  service 


288  TFE  LANDS  OF  THE  SABACEN. 

to  US,  and  deserved  recompense.  "  God  knows,"  said  he  to 
Francois,  "in  what  corner  of  the  mountains  you  might  now  be 
if  I  liad  not  accompanied  you."  "  Oh,"  replied  Francois,  "  there 
are  always  plenty  of  people  among  the  woods,  who  would  have 
been  equally  as  kind  as  yourself  in  showing  us  the  way."  He 
then  spoke  of  the  robbers  in  the  neighborhood,  and  pointed  out 
Bome  graves  by  the  road-side,  as  those  of  persons  who  had 
been  murdered.  "  But,"  he  added,  "everybody  in  these  pa-rts 
knows  me,  and  whoever  is  in  company  with  me  is  always  safe." 
The  Greek  assured  him  that  we  always  depended  on  oui^elvea 
for  our  safety.  Defeated  on  these  tacks,  he  boldly  affirmed 
that  his  services  were  worthy  of  payment.  "  But,"  said  Fran- 
9ois,  "  you  told  us  at  the  village  that  you  had  business  in  Kiu- 
tahya,  and  would  be  glad  to  join  us  for  the  sake  of  having 
company  on  the  road."  "  Well,  then,"  rejoined  the  old  fellow, 
making  a  last  effort,  "  I  leave  the  matter  to  your  politeness. 
"  Certainly,"  replied  the  imperturbable  dragoman,  "  we  coufd 
not  be  so  impolite  as  to  offer  money  to  a  man  of  your  wealth 
and  station  ;  we  could  not  insult  you  by  giving  you  alms." 
The  old  Turcoman  thereupon  gave  a  shrug  and  a  grunt,  made 
a  sullen  good-by  salutation,  and  left  us. 

It  was  nearly  six  o'clock  when  we  reached  the  Pursek. 
There  was  no  sign  of  the  city,  but  we  could  barely  discern  an  old 
fortress  on  the  lofty  cliff  which  commands  the  town.  A  long 
Btone  bridge  crossed  the  river,  which  here  separates  into  half  a 
dozen  channels.  The  waters  are  swift  and  clear,  and  wind 
away  in  devious  mazes  through  the  broad  green  meadows.  We 
hurried  on,  thinking  we  saw  minarets  in  the  distance,  but  they 
proved  to  be  poi)lars.  The  sun  sank  lower  and  lower,  and 
finally  went  down  before  there  was  any  token  of  our  being  in 


A3iaVAL    AT    KIUTAHYA.  389 

the  vicinity  of  the  city.  Soon,  however,  a  line  of  tiled  roofa 
appeared  along  the  slope  of  a  hill  on  our  left,  and  turning  its 
base,  we  saw  the  city  before  us,  filling  the  mouth  of  a  deep 
valley  or  gorge,  which  opened  from  the  mountains. 

But  the  horses  are  saddled,  and  Francois  tells  me  it  is  time 
to  put  up  my  pen.  We  are  off,  over  the  mountains,  to  the  old 
Greek  city  of  (Ezan:,  in  the  valley  of  the  Khyndacua 


290  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARAC^J 


CHAPTER    XXII I. 

KlrTAHrA      AND     THE    RUINS     OF     (EZANI. 

Entrance  into  Kiutahya-  -The  New  Khan — An  Unpleasant  Discovery — Kiutahya — Tint 
Citadel  — Panorama  frjm  the  Walls — The  Gorge  of  the  Mountains — Camp  in  ■ 
Meadow — The  Valley  of  the  Rhyndacus — Chavdur — The  Ruins  of  CEzani — The  Acro- 
polis and  Temple — The  Theatre  and  Stadium — Ride  down  the  Valley — Camp  at  Daglye 
Kdi. 

"  There  is  a  temple  in  ruin  stands, 
Fashioned  by  long-forpotten  hands ; 
Two  or  three  columns  and  many  a  stone, 
Marble  and  granite,  with  grass  o'ergrown  ! 
Out  upon  Time  !  it  will  leave  no  more 
Of  the  things  to  come  than  the  things  before  !" 

Daohje  Kot,  on  the  Rhyndacus,  July  C,  1852. 

On  entering  K^iutahya,  we  passed  the  barracks,  which  were 
the  residence  of  Kossuth  and  his  companions  in  exile.  Beyond 
them,  we  came  to  a  broad  street,  down  which  flowed  the  vilest 
stream  of  filth  of  which  even  a  Turkish  city  couhl  ever  boast. 
The  houses  on  either  side  were  two  stories  high,  the  upper 
part  of  wood,  with  hanging  balconies,  over  which  shot  the 
eaves  of  the  tiled  roofs.  The  welcome  cannon  had  just 
sounded,  announcing  the  close  of  the  day's  fast.  The  coffee* 
Bhops  were  already  crowded  with  lean  and  hungry  customers, 
the  pipes  were  filled  and  lighted,  and  the  coffee  smoked  in  the 
finjans.  In  half  a  minute  such  whiffs  arose  on  all  sides  as  ii 
would  have  cheered  the  heart  of  a  genuine  smoker  to  behold. 


THE    NEW    KHA>f.  291 

Out  of  these  cheerful  places  we  passed  into  otncr  streets  which 
were  entirely  deserted,  the  inhabitants  being  at  dinner.  It 
had  a  weird,  uncomfortable  effect  to  ride  through  streets 
where  the  clatter  of  our  horses'  hoofs  was  the  only  sound  of 
life.  At  last  we  reached  the  entrance  to  a  bazaar,  and  near  it 
a  khan — a  new  khan,  very  neatly  built,  and  with  a  spare  room 
so  much  better  than  we  expected,  that  we  congratulated  our- 
selves heartily.  We  unpacked  in  a  hurry,  and  Francois  ran 
off  to  the  bazaar,  from  which  he  speedily  returned  with  some 
roast  kid,  cucumbers,  and  cherries.  We  lighted  two  lamps,  I 
borrowed  the  oda-bashi's  narghileh,  and  Francois,  learning  that 
it  was  our  national  anniversary,  procured  us  a  flask  of  Greek 
wine,  that  we  might  do  it  honor.  The  beverage',  however, 
resembled  a  mi.\turc  of  vinegar  and  sealing-wax,  and  we  con- 
tented ourselves  with  drinking  patriotic  toasts,  in  two  finjans 
of  excellent  coffee.  But  in  the  midst  of  our  enjoyment,  hai> 
pening  to  cast  my  eye  on  the  walls,  I  saw  a  sight  that  turned 
all  our  honey  into  gall.  Scores  on  scores — nay,  hundreds  on 
hundreds — of  enormous  bed-bugs  swarmed  on  the  plaster,  and 
were  already  descending  to  our  beds  and  baggage.  To  sleep 
there  was  impossible,  but  we  succeeded  in  getting  possession  of 
one  of  the  outside  balconies,  where  we  made  our  beds,  after 
Bcarching  them  thoroughly. 

In  the  evening  a  merchant,  who  spoke  a  little  Arabic,  came 
up  to  me  and  asked  :  "  Is  not  your  Excellency's  friend  the 
\akim  pasha  ?"  (chief  physican).  I  did  not  venture  to  assent, 
but  replied  :  "  Xo  ;  he  is  a  sowakh."  This  was  beyond  his 
comprehension,  and  he  went  away  with  the  impression  that 
Mr.  n.  was  much  greater  than  a  hakim  jpasha.  I  slept  soundlj 
on  my  out-doors  bed,  but  was  awakened  towards  morning  by 


293  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

two  tremendous  claps  of  thunder,  echoing  in  the  gorge,  and  th« 
rattling  of  rain  on  the  roof  of  the  khan. 

1  spent  two  or  three  hours  next  morning  in  taking  a  survey 
of  Kiutahya.  The  town  is  much  larger  than  I  had  supposed  : 
I  should  judge  it  to  contain  from  fifty  to  sixty  thousand  inhabi 
tants.  The  situation  is  remarkable,  and  gives  a  picturesque 
effect  to  the  place  when  seen  from  above,  which  makes  one 
forget  its  internal  Qltli.  It  is  built  in  the  mouth  of  a  gorge, 
and  around  the  bases  of  the  hills  on  either  side.  The  lofty 
mountains  which  rise  behind  it  supply  it  with  perpetual  springs 
of  pure  water.  At  every  dozen  steps  you  come  upon  a  foun- 
tain, and  every  large  street  has  a  brook  in  the  centre.  The 
houses  are  all  two  and  many  of  them  three  stories  high,  with 
hanging  balconies,  which  remind  mo  much  of  Switzerland. 
The  bazaars  are  very  extensive,  covering  all  the  base  of  the  hill 
on  wliich  stands  the  ancient  citadel.  The  goods  displayed  were 
mostly  European  cotton  fabrics,  qidncaiUene,  boots  aud  slippers, 
pipe-sticks  and  silks.  In  the  parts  devoted  to  the  produce  of 
the  country,  I  saw  very  fine  cherries,  cucumbers  and  lettuce, 
and  bundles  of  magnificent  clover,  three  to  four  feet  high. 

We  climbed  a  steep  path  to  the  citadel,  which  covers  the 
Bnmrait  of  an  abrupt,  isolated  hill,  connected  by  a  shoulder 
with  the  great  range.  The  walls  are  nearly  a  mile  in  circuit, 
consisting  almost  wholly  of  immense  circular  buttresses,  placed 
BO  near  each  other  that  they  almost  touch.  The  connecting 
walls  are  broken  down  on  the  northern  side,  so  that  from  below 
the  buttresses  have  the  appearance  of  enormous  shattered 
columns.  They  are  built  of  rough  stones,  with  regular  laycra 
of  tlat,  burnt  bricks.  On  the  highest  part  of  the  hill  stands 
the  fortress,  or  stronghold,  a  place  which  must  have  been 


TIIK     CITADIcr,     OF     KIUTAHVA.  298 

almost  impregnable  before,  the  invention  of  cannon.  The  struc- 
ture probably  dates  from  the  ninth  or  tenth  century,  but  ig 
built  on  the  foundations  of  more  ancient  edifices.  The  old 
Greek  city  of  Cotyajura  (whence  Kiutahya)  probably  stood 
upon  this  hill.  Within  the  citadel  is  an  upper  town,  contain- 
ing about  a  hundred  houses,  the  residence,  apparently  of  poor 
families. 

From  the  circuit  of  the  walls,  on  every  side,  there  are  grand 
views  over  the  plain,  the  city,  and  the  gorges  of  the  moun- 
tains behind.  The  valley  of  the  Pursek,  freshened  by  the  last 
night's  shower,  spread  out  a  sheet  of  vivid  green,  to  the  pine- 
covered  mountains  which  bounded  it  on  all  sides.  Around 
the  city  it  was  adorned  with  groves  and  gardens,  and,  iu  the 
direction  of  Brousa,  white  roads  went  winding  away  to  other 
gardens  and  villages  in  the  distance.  The  mountains  of 
Phrygia,  through  which  we  had  passed,  were  the  loftiest  la 
the  circle  that  inclosed  the  valley.  The  city  at  our  feet  pre- 
sented a  thick  array  of  red-tiled  roofs,  out  of  which  rose  here 
and  there  the  taper  shaft  of  a  minaret,  or  the  dome  of  a 
mosque  or  bath.  From  the  southern  side  of  the  citadel,  we 
looked  down  into  the  gorge  which  supplies  Kiutahya  with 
water — a  wild,  desert  landscape  of  white  crags  and  shattered 
Dcaks  of  gray  rock,  hanging  over  a  narrow  winding  bed  of  the 
greenest  foliage. 

Instead  of  taking  the  direct  road  to  Brousa,  we  decided  tT 
make  a  detour  of  two  days,  in  order  to  visit  the  ruins  of  the  old 
Greek  city  of  (Ezani,  which  are  thirty-six  miles  south  of  Kiu- 
tahya. Leaving  at  noon,  we  ascended  the  gorge  behind  the 
city,  by  delightftlly  embowered  paths,  at  first  under  the  eaves 
of  superb  walnut-trees,  and  then  through  wild  thickets  of  wil* 


294  THE  LANDS  OP  THE  SARACEN. 

low,  hazel,  privet,  and  other  shrubs,  tangled  together  with  th« 
odorous  white  honeysuckle.  Near  the  city,  the  mount ain-sidca 
were  bare  white  masses  of  gypsum  and  other  rock,  in  many 
places  with  the  pirest  chrome-yellow  hue  ;  but  as  we  advanced; 
they  were  clothed  to  the  summit  with  copsewood.  The  streams 
that  foamed  down  these  perennial  heights  were  led  into  buried 
channels,  to  come  to  light  again  in  sparkling  fountains,  pouring 
into  ever-full  stone  basins.  The  day  was  cool  and  cloudy,  and 
the  heavy  shadows  which  hung  on  the  great  sides  of  the  moun- 
tain gateway,  heightened,  by  contrast,  the  glory  of  the  sunlit 
plain  seen  through  them. 

After  passing  the  summit  ridge,  probably  5,000  feet  above 
the  sea,  we  came  upon  a  wooded,  hilly  region,  stretching  away 
in  long  misty  lines  to  Murad  Dagh,  whose  head  was  spotted 
with  snow.  There  were  patches  of  wheat  and  rye  in  the  hol- 
lows, and  the  bells  of  distant  herds  tinkled  occasionally  among 
the  trees.  There  was  no  village  on  the  road,  and  we  were  op 
the  way  to  one  which  we  saw  in  the  distance,  when  we  came 
upon  a  meadow  of  good  grass,  with  a  small  stream  running 
through  it.  Here  we  encamped,  sending  Achmet,  the  katur- 
gee,  to  the  village  for  milk  and  eggs.  The  ewes  had  just  been 
milked  for  the  suppers  of  their  owners,  but  they  went  over  the 
flock  again,  stripping  their  udders,  which  greatly  improved 
the  quality  of  the  milk.  The  night  was  so  cold  that  I  could 
Bcarcely  sleep  during  the  morning  hours.  There  was  a  chill, 
hsavy  dew  on  the  meadow  ;  but  when  Francois  awoke  me  at 
Bunris?,  the  sky  was  splendidly  clear  and  pure,  and  the  early 
beams  had  a  little  warmth  in  them.  Our  coffee,  before  start- 
ing, made  with  sheep's  milk,  was  the  richest  I  ever  drank. 

After  ridmg  for  two  hours  across  broad,  wild  ridges,  covered 


THE    RUIN3    OF    (EZANI.  295 

with  cedar,  wc  reached  a  height  overlooking  the  valley  of  the 
Rhyndacus,  or  rather  the  plain  whence  he  draws  hi«  sources — 
A  circular  level,  tea  or  twelve  miles  in  diameter,  and  contract- 
ing towards  the  west  into  a  narrow  dell,  througli  which  hia 
walers  find  outlet ;  several  villages,  each  embowered  in  gar- 
dens, were  scattered  along  the  bases  of  the  hills  that  inclose  it 
We  took  the  wrong  road,  but  were  set  aright  by  a  herdsman, 
and  after  threading  a  lane  between  thriving  grain-fields,  were 
cheered  by  the  sight  of  the  Temple  of  QEzani,  lifted  on  itg 
acropolis  above  the  orchards  of  Chavdiir,  and  standing  out 
sharp  and  clear  against  the  purple  ot  the  hills. 

Our  approach  to  the  city  was  marked  by  the  blocks  of  scnl[> 
tured  marble  that  lined  the  way  :  elegant  mouldings,  cornices, 
and  entablatures,  thrown  together  with  common  stone  to  make 
walls  between  the  fields.  The  village  is  built  on  both  sides  of 
the  Rhyndacus  ;  it  is  an  ordinary  Turkish  hamlet,  with  tiled 
roofs  and  chimneys,  and  exhibits  very  few  of  the  remains  of 
the  old  city  in  its  composition.  This,  I  suspect,  is  owing  to 
the  great  size  of  the  hewn  blocks,  especially  of  the  pillars, 
cornices,  and  entablatures,  nearly  all  of  which  are  from  twelve 
to  fifteen  feet  long.  It  is  from  the  size  and  number  of  these 
scattered  blocks,  rather  than  from  the  buildings  which  still 
partially  exist,  that  one  obtains  an  idea  of  the  size  and  splen- 
dor of  the  ancient  (Ezani.  The  place  is  filled  with  fragments, 
especially  of  columns,  of  which  there  are  several  hundred, 
nearly  all  finely  fluted.  The  Rhyndacus  is  still  spanned  by  an 
oncienl  bridge  of  three  arches,  and  both  banks  are  lined  witli 
pieis  of  hewn  stone.  Tall  poplars  and  massy  walnuts  of  the 
richest  green  shade  the  clear  waters,  and  there  are  many  pio- 
turesque  combiuations  of  foliage  and  ruin — death  and  life — 


296  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

which  would  charm  a  painter's  eye.  Near  the  bridge  we 
stopped  to  examine  a  pile  of  immense  fragments  which  have 
been  thrown  together  by  the  Turks — pillars,  cornices,  altars, 
pieces  of  a  frieze,  with  bulls'  heads  bound  together  by  hanging 
garlands,  and  a  large  square  block,  with  a  legible  tablet.  It 
resembled  an  altar  in  form,  and,  from  the  word  "Artemidoron," 
appeared  to  have  belonged  to  some  temple  to  Diana. 

Passing  through  the  village  we  came  to  a  grand  artificial 
platform  on  its  western  side,  called  the  Acropolis.  It  is  of 
solid  masonry,  five  hundred  feet  square,  and  averaging  ten  feet 
in  height.  On  the  eastern  side  it  is  supported  on  rude  though 
massive  arches,  resembling  Etruscan  workmanship.  On  the 
top  and  around  the  edges  of  this  platform  lie  great  numbers  of 
fluted  columns,  and  immense  fragments  of  cornice  and  archi- 
trave. In  the  centre,  on  a  foundation  platform  about  eight 
feet  high,  stands  a  beautiful  Ionic  temple,  one  hundred  feet  in 
length.  On  approaching,  it  appeared  nearly  perfect,  except 
the  roof  and  so  many  of  the  columns  remain  standing  that  its 
ruined  condition  scarcely  injures  the  effect.  There  are  seventeen 
columns  on  the  side  and  eight  at  the  end,  Ionic  in  style,  fluted, 
and  fifty  feet  in  height.  About  half  the  cella  remains,  with  an 
elegant  frieze  and  cornice  along  the  top,  and  a  series  of  tablets, 
f!et  in  panels  of  ornamental  sculpture,  running  along  the  sides. 
The  front  of  the  cella  includes  a  small  open  peristyle,  with  two 
composite  Corinthian  columns  at  the  entrance,  making,  with 
those  of  the  outer  colonnade,  eighteen  columns  standing.  The 
tablets  contain  Greek  inscriptions,  perfectly  legible,  wliere  the 
eton'j  has  not  been  shattered.  Under  the  temple  there  are  larga 
vaults,  which  we  found  filled  up  with  young  kids,  who  had 
gone  in  there  to  escape  the  heat  of  the  sun.    The  portico  was 


THE    TOEATRE    AND    STADIUM.  291 

occupied  by  sheep,  which  at  first  refused  to  make  room  fi>r  us, 
&nd  gave  strong  olfactory  evidence  of  their  partiality  for  the 
teirple  as  a  resting-place. 

On  the  side  of  a  hill,  about  three  hundred  yards  to  the 
north,  are  the  remains  of  a  theatre.  Crossing  some  patches  of 
barley  and  lentils,  we  entered  a  stadium,  forming  an  extension 
of  the  theatre — that  is,  it  took  the  same  breadth  and  direction, 
so  that  the  two  might  be  considered  as  one  grand  work,  more 
than  one  thonsand  feet  long  by  nearly  four  hundred  wide. 
The  walls  of  the  stadium  are  hurled  down,  except  an  entrance 
of  five  arches  of  massive  masonry,  on  the  western  side.  We 
rode  up  the  artificial  valley,  between  high,  grassy  hills,  com- 
pletely covered  with  what  at  a  distance  resembled  loose  boards^ 
l)ut  which  were  actually  the  long  marble  seats  of  the  stadium. 
Urging  our  liorses  over  piles  of  loose  blocks,  we  reached  the 
base  of  the  theatre,  climbed  the  fragments  that  cumber  the 
main  entrance,  and  looked  on  the  spacious  arena  and  galleries 
within.  Although  greatly  ruined,  the  materials  of  the  whole 
structure  remain,  and  might  be  put  together  again.  It  is  a 
grand  wreck  ;  the  colossal  fragments  which  have  tumbled  from 
the  arched  proscenium  fill  the  arena,  and  the  rows  of  seats, 
though  broken  and  disjointed,  still  retain  their  original  order. 
It  is  somewhat  more  than  a  semicircle,  the  radius  being  about 
one  hundred  and  eighty  feet.  The  original  height  was  upwards 
of  fifty  feet,  and  there  were  fifty  rows  of  scats  in  all, 
each  row  capable  of  seating  two  hundred  persons,  so  that 
tlu'  number  of  spectators  who  could  be  accommodated  was 
eight  thousand. 

The  fragments  cumbering  the  arena  were  enormous,  and 
highly   interesting    from    th^ir   character.     There    were   ricb 

13* 


298  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 

blocks  of  cornice,  ten  feet  long  ;  lluted  and  reeded  pillars 
great  arcs  of  heavily-carved  sculjiture,  which  appeared  to  have 
served  as  architraves  from  pillar  to  pillar,  along  the  face  of 
the  proscenium,  where  there  was  every  trace  of  having  been  a 
colonnade  ;  and  other  blocks  sculptured  with  figures  of  ani- 
mals in  alto-relievo.  There  were  generally  two  figures  on  each 
block,  and  among  those  which  could  be  recognized  were  the 
dog  and  the  lion.  Doors  opened  from  the  proscenium  into  the 
retiring-rooms  of  the  actors,  under  which  were  the  vaults 
where  the  beasts  wore  kept.  A  young  fox  or  jackal  started 
from  his  siesta  as  we  entered  the  theatre,  and  took  refuge 
under  the  loose  blocks.  Looking  backwards  through  the 
stadium  from  the  seats  of  the  theatre,  we  had  a  lovely  view  of 
the  temple,  standing  out  clear  and  bright  in  the  midst  of  the 
summer  plain,  with  the  snow-streaked  summits  of  ^lurad  Dagb 
in  the  distance.  It  was  a  picture  wliich  I  shall  long  reraem- 
Der,  The  desolation  of  the  magnificent  ruins  was  made  all 
the  more  impressive  by  the  silent,  solitary  air  of  the  region 
around  them. 

Leaving  Chavdiir  in  the  afternoon,  we  struck  northward, 
down  the  valley  of  the  Rhyndacus,  over  tracts  of  rolling  land, 
interspersed  with  groves  of  cedar  and  pine.  There  were  so 
many  branch  roads  and  crossings  that  we  could  not  fail  to  go 
wrong  ;  and  after  two  or  three  hours  found  ourselves  in 
the  midst  of  a  forest,  on  the  broad  top  of  a  mountain,  without 
any  road  at  all.  There  were  some  herdsmen  tending  their 
flocks  near  at  hand,  but  they  could  give  us  no  satisfactory 
direction.  "We  thereupon  took  our  own  course,  and  soon 
brought  up  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  overhanging  a  deep 
Talley.     Away  to  the  eastward  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 


CAMP    AT   DAGHJE    KOI.  299 

Rliyiulacns,  and  the  wooden  minaret  of  a  little  village  oa  his 
banks.  Following  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  we  came  at  last 
to  a  glen,  down  which  ran  a  rough  footpath  that  finally 
conducted  us,  by  a  long  road  through  the  forests,  to  the 
village  of  Daghje  Koi,  where  we  are  now  encamped. 

The  place  seems  to  be  devoted  to  the  making  of  flints,  and 
the  streets  are  filled  with  piles  of  the  chipped  fragments.  Our 
tent  is  pitched  oa  the  bank  of  the  river,  in  a  barren  meadow. 
The  people  tell  us  that  the  whole  region  round  about  has  just 
been  visited  by  a  plague  of  grasshoppers,  which  have  destroyed 
their  crops.  Our  beasts  have  wandered  off  to  the  hills, 
in  search  for  grass,  and  the  disconsolate  Iladji  is  hunting 
them.  Achmet,  the  katurgee,  lies  near  the  fire,  sick  ;  Mr, 
Harrison  complains  of  fever,  and  Frangois  moves  about  lan- 
guidly, with  a  dismal  countenance.  So  here  we  are  in  the  soli- 
tudes of  Bithynia,  but  there  is  no  God  but  God,  and  that 
which  is  destined  comes  to  pass. 


30C  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 


CnAPTER    XXIV. 

THE     MYSIAN     OLYMPUS. 

Jourcsy  Down  the  Valley— The  Plague  of  Grasshoppers— A  Defile— The  Town  cf  Ta!> 
shanlU— The  Camp  of  Famine— We  leave  trie  Rliyndacus— The  Ba»e  of  Olympus- 
Primeval  Forests— The  Guard -House— Scenery  of  the  Summit— Forests  of  Beech- 
Saw-Mills— Descent  of  the  Mountain— The  View  of  Olympus- Morning— The  Land  of 
Harvest— Aineghiol— A  Showery  Ride— The  Plain  of  Brousa— The  Structure  of  Olym 
pus — We  reach  Brousa— The  Tent  is  Furled. 

"  I  looked  vet  farther  and  higher,  and  saw  in  the  heavens  a  silvery  cloud  that  stood 
fa^'.,  and  still'  against  the  bret-ze  ;  *  •  *  *  and  so  it  was  as  a  sign  and  a  testimony— 
alir.ost  ii3  a  call  from  the  negle.-ted  gods,  that  1  now  saw  and  acknowledged  the  snowy 
crown  of  the  Mysian  Olympus  !"  Kisg:_akb. 

Brocsa,  Jidy  9, 1S52. 

From  Daglije  Koi,  there  were  two  roads  to  Tauslianlii,  but  the 
people  informed  us  that  the  one  which  led  across  the  moun- 
tains was  difficult  to  find,  and  almost  impracticable.  We 
therefore  took  the  river  road,  which  we  found  picturesque  in 
the  highest  degree.  The  narrow  dell  of  the  Rliyndacus  wound 
through  a  labyrinth  of  mountains,  sometimes  turning  at  sharp 
angles  between  craggy  buttresses,  covered  with  forests,  and 
Bometimcs  broadening  out  into  a  sweep  of  valley,  where  the 
villagers  were  working  in  companies  among  the  grain  and 
poppy  fields.  The  banks  of  the  stream  were  lined  with  oak, 
willow  and  sycamore,  and  forests  of  pine,  descending  from  the 
tnouatains,  frequently  overhung  Ihe  road.     We  met  number? 


THE    PLAGUE    OF    GRASSH  UPPERS.  801 

of  peasants,  going  to  and  from  the  fields,  and  once  a  company 
of  some  twenty  women,  who,  on  seeing  us,  clustered  together 
like  a  flock  of  frigliteued  sheep,  find  threw  their  mantles  over 
their  heads.  They  had  curiosity  enough,  however,  to  peep  al 
us  as  we  went  by,  and  I  made  them  a  salutation,  which  they 
returned,  and  then  burst  into  a  chorus  of  hearty  laughter.  AU 
this  region  was  ravaged  by  a  plague  of  grasshoppers.  The 
earth  was  black  with  them  in  many  places,  and  our  horses 
ploughed  up  a  living  spray,  as  they  drove  forward  through  the 
meadows.  Every  spear  of  grass  was  destroyed,  and  the  wheat 
and  rye  fields  were  terribly  cut'  up.  We  passed  a  large  crag 
where  myriads  of  starlings  had  built  their  nests,  and  every 
starling  had  a  grasshopper  in  his  mouth. 

We  crossed  the  river,  in  order  to  pass  a  narrow  defile,  by 
which  it  forces  its  way  through  the  rocky  heights  of  Dumanidj 
Dagh.  Soon  after  passing  the  ridge,  a  broad  and  beautiful 
valley  expanded  before  us.  It  was  about  ten  miles  in  breadth, 
nearly  level,  and  surrounded  by  picturesque  ranges  of  wooded 
mountains.  It  was  well  cultivated,  principally  in  rye  and  pop- 
pies, and  more  thickly  populated  than  almost  any  part  of 
Europe.  The  tinned  tops  of  the  minarets  of  Taushanlii  shone 
over  the  top  of  a  hill  iu  front,  and  there  was  a  large  town 
nearly  opposite,  on  the  other  bank  of  the  Rhyndacus,  and 
seven  small  villages  scattered  about  in  various  directions.  Most 
of  the  latter,  however,  were  merely  the  winter  habitations  of 
the  herdsmen,  who  arc  now  living  in  tents  on  th3  mountain 
tops.  All  over  the  valley,  the  peasants  were  at  work  in  the 
harvest-fields,  cutting  aud  biudiug  grain,  gathering  opium  from 
the  poppies,  or  weeding  the  young  tobacco.  In  the  south,  over 
the  rim  of  the  hilla  that  shut  in  tLis  pastoral  solitude,  rosii  the 


302  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN, 

long  blue  summits  of  Urus  Dagh.  We  rode  into  Tausbaulii, 
wliich  is  a  long  town,  filling  up  a  hollow  between  two  &tony 
hills.  The  houses  are  all  of  stone,  two  stories  high,  with  tiled 
roofs  and  chimneys,  so  that,  but  for  the  clapboarded  aud 
shingled  minarets,  it  would  answer  for  a  North-German 
Tillage. 

The  streets  were  nearly  deserted,  and  even  in  the  bazaars, 
A^hich  are  of  some  extent,  we  found  but  few  persons.  Those 
few,  however,  showed  a  laudable  curiDsity  with  regard  to  us, 
clustering  about  us  whenever  we  stopped,  and  staring  at 
OS  with  provoking  pertinacity.  We  had  some  difficulty  in 
procuring  information  concerning  the  road,  the  directions  being 
BO  contradictory  that  we  were  as  much  in  the  dark  as  ever. 
We  lost  half  an  hour  in  wandering  among  the  hills  ;  and,  after 
travelling  four  hours  over  piny  uplands,  without  finding  the 
village  of  Kara  Koi,  encamped  on  a  dry  plain,  on  the  western 
bank  of  the  river.  There  was  not  a  spear  of  grass  for  tho 
beasts,  everything  being  eaten  up  by  the  grasshoppers,  and 
there  were  no  Turcomans  near  who  could  supply  us  with  food. 
So  we  dined  on  hard  bread  and  black  coffee,  and  our  forlorn 
beasts  walked  languidly  about,  cropping  the  dry  stalks  of  weeda 
and  the  juiceless  roots  of  the  dead  grass. 

We  crossed  the  river  next  morning,  and  took  a  road  follow- 
ing its  course,  and  shaded  with  willows  and  sycamores.  The 
lofty,  wooded  ranges  of  the  Mysian  Olympus  lay  before  us, 
and  our  day's  work  was  to  pass  them.  After  passing  the  vil- 
lage of  Kara  Koi,  we  left  the  valley  of  the  Rhyndacus,  and 
commenced  ascending  one  of  the  long,  projecting  spurs  thrust 
out  from  the  main  chain  of  Olympus,  At  first  we  rode 
tlirough  thickets  of  scrubby  cedar,  but  soon  came  to  maguifi 


PRIMEVAL    FORESTS  803 

cent  pine  forests,  that  grew  taller  and  sturdier  trie  higher  we 
cionib.  A  supcrl)  mountain  landscape  opened  behind  ns.  The 
valleys  sank  deeper  and  deeper,  and  at  last  disappeared  behind 
the  great  ridges  that  heaved  themselves  out  of  the  wilderncsa 
of  smaller  hills.  All  these  ridges  were  covered  with  forests ; 
and  as  we  looked  backwards  out  of  the  tremendous  gulf  up  the 
sides  of  which  we  were  climbing,  the  scenery  was  wholly  wild 
and  uncultivated.  Our  path  hung  on  the  imminent  side 
of  a  chasm  so  steep  that  one  slip  might  have  been  destructioc 
to  both  horse  and  rider.  Far  below  us,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
chasm,  roared  an  invisible  torrent.  The  opposite  side,  vapory 
''rom  its  depth,  rose  like  an  immense  wall  against  Heaven. 
The  pines  were  even  grander  than  those  in  the  woods  of 
Phrygia.  Here  they  grew  taller  and  more  dense,  hanging 
their  cloudy  boughs  over  the  giddy  depths,  and  clutching  with 
desperate  roots  to  the  almost  perpendicular  sides  of  the  gorges. 
In  many  places  they  were  the  primeval  forests  of  Olympus, 
and  the  Hamadryads  were  not  yet  frightened  from  their  haunts. 
Thus,  slowly  toiling  up  through  the  sublime  wilderness, 
breathing  the  cold,  pure  air  of  tliose  lofty  regions,  we  came  at 
last  to  a  little  stream,  slowly  trickling  down  the  bed  of  the 
gorge.  It  was  shaded,  not  by  the  pine,  but  by  the  Northern 
beech,  with  its  white  trunk  and  close,  confidential  boughs, 
made  for  the  talks  of  lovers  and  the  meditations  of  poets. 
Here  we  stopped  to  breakfast,  but  there  was  nothing  for  the 
poor  beasts  to  eat,  and  they  waited  for  us  droopingly,  with 
their  heads  thrust  together.  While  we  sat  there  three 
camels  descended  to  the  stream,  and  after  them  a  guard  with 
a  long  gun  He  was  a  well-made  man,  with  a  brown  face, 
keen,  black  eye,  and  piratical  air,  and  would  have  made  a  goo« 


804  THE  LAXDS  OF  THE  SARACEV. 

hero  of  modern  romance.  Higher  up  we  came  to  a  guard 
house,  on  a  little  cleared  space,  surrounded  by  beech  foresta 
It  was  a  rough  stone  hut,  with  a  white  flag  planted  on  a  pole 
before  it,  and  a  miniature  water-wheel,  running  a  miuiaturfi 
paw  at  a  most  destructive  rate,  beside  the  door. 

Continuing  our  way,  we  entered  on  a  region  such  as  I  had 
no  idea  could  be  found  in  Asia.  The  mountains,  from  the 
bottoms  of  the  gorges  to  their  topmost  summits,  were  covered 
with  tlie  most  superb  forests  of  beech  I  ever  saw — masses  of 
impenetrable  foliage,  of  the  most  brilliant  green,  touched  here 
and  there  by  the  darker  top  of  a  pine.  Our  road  was  through 
a  deep,  dark  shade,  and  on  either  side,  up  and  down,  we  saw 
but  a  cool,  shadowy  solitude,  sprinkled  with  dots  of  emerald 
light,  and  redolent  with  the  odor  of  damp  earth,  moss,  and 
dead  leaves.  It  was  a  forest,  the  counterpart  of  which  could 
only  be  found  in  America — such  primeval  magnitude  of  growth, 
such  wild  luxuriance,  such  complete  solitude  and  silence  ! 
<  Through  the  shafts  of  the  pines  we  had  caught  glorious 
glimpses  of  the  blue  mountain  world  below  us  ;  but  now  the 
beech  folded  us  in  its  arms,  and  whispered  in  our  ears  tho 
legends  of  our  Northern  home.  There,  on  the  ridges  of  tho 
Mysian  Olympus,  sacred  to  the  bright  gods  of  Grecian  song,  I 
found  the  inspiration  of  our  darker  and  colder  clime  and  age. 
"  O  gloriosi  spirili  degli  hoscki .'" 

I  could  scarcely  contain  myself,  from  surprise  and  joy. 
Francois  failed  to  find  French  adjectives  sufficient  for  his  admi- 
ration, and  even  our  cheating  katurgees  were  touched  by  the 
spirit  of  the  scene.  On  either  side,  whenc^ver  a  glimpse  could 
be  had  through  the  bouglis,  we  looked  upon  leaning  walls  of 
trees,  whose  tall,  rounded  tops  basked  in  the  sunshine,  while 


THE     SUMMIT     OF     OLYMPUS.  306 

their  bases  were  wrapped  in  the  shadows  cast  by  themselveai 
Tlius,  folded  over  cacli  other  like  scales,  or  feathers  on  o 
falcon's  winj^,  they  clad  the  mountain.  The  trees  were  tailor, 
and  had  a  darker  and  more  j?1ossy  leaf  than  the  American 
beech.  By  and  by  patches  of  bhie  shone  between  the  bougha 
before  us,  a  sign  that  the  summit  was  near,  and  before  one 
o'clock  we  stood  upon  the  narrow  ridge  forming  the  crest  of 
the  mountain.  Here,  although  we  were  between  five  and  six 
llionsand  feet  above  the  sea,  the  woods  of  beech  were  a 
hundred  feet  in  height,  and  shut  out  all  view.  On  the 
northern  side  the  forest  scenery  is  even  grander  than  on  the 
southern.  The  beeches  are  magnificent  trees,  straight  as  an 
arrow,  and  from  a  hundred  to  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  height. 
Only  now  and  then  could  we  get  any  view  beyond  the  shadowj 
d('i)ths  sinking  below  us,  and  then  it  was  only  to  see  similai 
mountain  ranges,  buried  in  f  )liage,  and  rolling  far  behind  each 
otlier  into  the  distance.  Twice,  in  the  depth  of  the  gorge,  we 
saw  a  saw-mill,  turned  by  the  snow-cold  torrents.  Piles  of 
pine  and  beechen  boards  were  heaped  around  them,  and  tho 
sawyers  were  busily  plying  their  lonely  business.  The  axe  of 
the  woodman  echoed  but  rarely  through  the  gulfs,  though  many 
large  trees  lay  felled  by  the  roadside.  The  rock,  which 
occasionally  cropped  out  of  the  soil,  was  white  marble,  and 
there  was  a  shining  precipice  of  it,  three  hundred  feet  high,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  gorge. 

Aft';r  four  hours  of  steady  descent,  during  the  last  hour  of 
which  we  passed  into  a  forest  entirely  of  oaks,  we  reached" the 
first  terrace  at  the  base  of  tlie  mountain.  Here,  as  I  was 
riding  in  advance  of  the  caravan,  I  met  a  company  of  Turkish 
officers,  who  saluted  me  with  an  inclination  of  the  most  prO" 


306  TDK  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACFN. 

found  reverence.  I  replied  with  due  Oriental  grayity.  whicfi 
seemed  to  justify  their  lespcct,  for  when  they  met  Fran9oi3, 
who  is  everywhere  looked  upon  as  a  Turkish  janissary,  they 
asked:  "Is  not  your  master  a  Shekh  el- Islam  V  "  You  are 
right :  he  is,"  answered  tlie  unscrupulous  Greek.  A  Shekh 
el-Islam  is  a  sort  of  high-priest,  corresponding  in  dignity  to  a 
Cardinal  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  It  is  rather  singular 
that  I  am  generally  taken  for  a  Secretary  of  some  kind,  or  a 
Moslem  priest,  while  my  companion,  who,  by  this  time,  hag 
assumed  the  Oriental  expression,  is  supposed  to  be  either  medi- 
cal or  military. 

We  had  no  sooner  left  the  forests  and  entered  the  copse- 
wood  which  followed,  than  the  blue  bulk  of  Olympus  suddenly 
appeared  in  the  west,  towering  far  into  the  sky.  It  is  a  magni-- 
ficent  mountain,  with  a  broad  though  broken  summit,  streaked 
with  snow.  Before  us,  stretching  away  almost  to  his  base,  lay 
a  grand  mountain  slope,  covered  with  orchards  and  golden 
harvest-fields.  Through  lanes  of  hawthorn  and  chestnut  trees 
in  blossom,  which  were  overgrown  with  snowy  clematis  and 
made  a  shady  roof  above  our  heads,  we  reached  the  little 
village  of  Orta  Koi,  and  encamped  in  a  grove  of  pear-trees. 
There  was  grass  for  our  beasts,  who  were  on  the  brink  of 
5tarvation,  and  fowls  and  cucumbers  for  ourselves,  who  had 
f)een  limited  to  bread  and  coifee  for  two  days.  But  as  one 
necessity  was  restored,  another  disappeared.  We  had  smoked 
the  last  of  our  delicious  Aleppo  tobacco,  and  that  which  the 
villagers  gave  us  was  of  very  inferior  quality.  Nevertheless, 
the  pipe  which  we  smoked  with  them  in  the  twilight,  beside  the 
marble  fountain,  promoted  that  peace  of  mind  which  is  tU« 
Bwsetest  preparative  of  slumber. 


THE    LAND    OF    JIARVEST.  301 

Fraiigois  was  determined  to  finish  our  journey  to-day.  He 
had  a  presentiment  that  we  should  reach  Brousa,  although  I 
expected  nothing  of  the  kind,  lie  called  us  long  before  the 
lovely  pastoral  valley  in  which  we  lay  had  a  suspicion  of  tho 
Bun,  but  just  in  time  to  see  the  first  rays  strike  the  high  head 
of  Olympus.  The  long  lines  of  snow  blushed  with  an  opaline 
radiance  against  the  dark-blue  of  the  morning  sky,  and  all  the 
forests  and  fields  below  lay  still,  and  cool,  and  dewy,  lapped  ic 
dreams  yet  unrecalled  by  the  fading  moon.  I  bathed  my  face 
in  the  cold  well  that  perpetually  poured  over  its  full  brim, 
drank  the  coffee  which  Frangois  had  already  prepared,  sprang 
into  the  saddle,  and  began  the  last  day  of  our  long  pilgrimage. 
The  tent  was  folded,  alas  !  for  the  last  time  ;  and  now  fare- 
well to  the  freedom  of  our  wandering  life  !  Shall  I  ever  feel 
it  again  ? 

The  dew  glistened  on  the  chestnuts  and  the  walnuts,  on  tho 
wild  grape-vines  and  wild  roses,  that  shaded  our  road,  as  we  fol- 
lowed the  course  of  an  Olympian  stream  through  a  charming 
dell,  into  the  great  plain  below.  Everywhere  the  same  bounti- 
ful soil,  the  same  superb  orchards,  the  same  ripe  fields  of  wheat 
and  barley,  and  silver  rye.  The  peasants  were  at  work,  mea 
and  women,  cutting  the  grain  with  rude  scythes,  binding  it  into 
sheaves,  and  stacking  it  in  the  fields.  As  we  rode  over  the 
plain,  the  boys  came  running  out  to  us  with  handfuls  of  grain, 
saluting  us  from  afar,  bidding  us  welcome  as  pilgrims,  wistiing 
us  as  many  years  of  prosperity  as  there  were  kernels  in  their 
gheaves,  and  kissing  the  hands  that  gave  them  the  harvest-toll. 
The  whole  landscape  had  an  air  of  plenty,  peace,  and  content- 
ment. Tlie  people  all  greeted  us  cordially;  and  once  a  Mevlevi 
Dervish  and  a  stately  Turk,  riding  in  company,  saluted  me  do 


808  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

respectfully,  stopping  to  speak  with  me,  tliat  1  quite  regretted 
being  obliged  to  assume  an  air  of  dignified  reserve,  ani  ride 
away  from  them. 

Ere  long,  we  saw  the  two  white  minarets  of  Aincghiol, 
above  the  line  of  orchards  in  front  of  us,  and,  in  three  hour? 
after  starting,  reached  the  place.  It  is  a  smuU  town,  not  par 
ticularly  clean,  but  with  brisk-looking  bazaars.  In  one  of  the 
houses,  I  saw  half-a-dozen  pairs  of  superb  antlers,  the  spoils 
of  Olympian  stags.  The  bazaar  is  covered  with  a  troUised 
roof,  overgrown  with  grape-vines,  which  hang  enormous  bunches 
of  young  grapes  over  the  shop-boards.  We  were  cheered  by 
the  news  that  Brousa  was  only  eight  hours  distant,  and  I  now 
began  to  hope  that  we  might  reach  it.  We  jogged  on  as  fast 
as  we  could  urge  our  weary  horses,  passed  another  belt  of 
orchard  land,  paid  more  harvest-tolls  to  the  reapers,  and  com- 
menced ascending  a  chain  of  low  hills  which  divides  the  plain 
of  Aineghiol  from  that  of  Brousa. 

At  a  fountain  called  the  "  mid-daj  Jconnak,"  Vfe  met  some 
travellers  coming, from  Brousa,  who  informed  us  that  we  could 
get  there  by  the  time  of  asser  prayer.  Rounding  the  north- 
eastern base  of  Olympus,  we  now  saw  before  us  the  long  head- 
land which  forms  his  south-western  extremity.  A  storm  wa.s 
arising  from  the  sea  of  Marmora,  and  heavy  white  clouds  set- 
tled on  the  topmost  summits  of  the  mountain.  The  wind  began 
to  blow  fresh  and  cool,  and  when  we  had  reached  a  height 
overlooking  the  deep  valley,  in  the  bottom  of  which  lies  the 
picturesque  village  of  Ak-su,  there  were  long  showery  lines 
coming  up  from  the  sea,  and  a  filmy  sheet  of  gray  rain 
descended  between  us  and  Olympus,  throwing  his  vast  bulk  far 
loto  the  background.    At  Ak-su,  the  first  shower  met  us,  pour 


THE     PLAIM     OF     BROUSA,  809 

Ing  80  fast  and  thick  that  we  were  obliged  to  put  on  our  capote^ 
and  halt  under  a  wahiut-trce  for  shelter.  But  it  soon  passel 
over,  laying  the  dust,  for  the  time,  and  making  the  air  sweet 
and  cool. 

We  pushed  forward  over  heights  covered  with  young  forests 
of  oak,  which  are  protected  by  the  government,  in  order  that 
they  may  furnish  ship-timber.  On  the  right,  we  looked  down 
into  magnificent  valleys,  opening  towards  the  west  into  the 
the  plain  of  Brousa  ;  but  when,  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
we  reached  the  last  height,  and  saw  the  great  plain  itself,  the 
climax  was  attained.  It  was  the  crown  of  all  that  we  had  yet 
Been.  This  superb  plain  or  valley,  thirty  miles  long,  by  five  in 
breadth,  spread  away  to  the  westward,  between  the  mighty 
mass  of  Olympus  on  the  one  side,  and  a  range  of  lofty  moun- 
tains on  the  other,  the  sides  of  which  presented  a  charming 
mixture  of  forest  and  cultivated  land.  Olympus,  covered  with 
woods  of  beech  and  oak,  towered  to  the  clouds  that  concealed 
his  snowy  head  ;  and  far  in  advance,  under  the  last  capo  he 
threw  out  towards  the  sea,  the  hundred  minarets  of  Brousa 
stretched  in  a  white  and  glittering  line,  like  the  masts  of  a 
navy,  whose  hulls  were  buried  in  the  leafy  sea.  No  words  can 
describe  the  beauty  of  the  valley,  the  blending  of  the  richest 
cultivation  with  the  wildest  natural  luxuriance.  Here  were 
gardens  and  orchards  ;  there  groves  of  superb  chestnut-trees 
m  blossom  ;  here,  fields  of  golden  grain  or  green  pasture-land  ; 
there.  Arcadian  thickets  overgrown  with  clematis  and  wild 
roae  ;  here,  lofty  poplars  growing  beside  the  streams  ;  there, 
spiry  cypresses  looking  down  from  the  slopes  :  and  all  blended 
111  one  whole,  so  rich,  so  grand,  so  gorgeous,  tl  at  I  scarcely 
arcathed  whcu  it  first  bursjt  upon  mo. 


310  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

And  now  vre  descended  to  its  level,  and  rode  westward  along 
the  base  of  Olympus,  grandest  of  Asian  mountains.  This 
after-storm  view,  although  his  head  was  shrouded,  was  sublime 
nis  base  is  a  vast  sloping  terrace,  leagues  in  length,  resem- 
bling the  flights  of  steps  by  which  the  ancient  temples  were 
approached.  From  this  foundation  rise  four  mighty  pyramids, 
two  thousand  feet  in  height,  and  completely  mantled  with 
forests.  They  are  very  nearly  regular  in  their  form  and  size, 
and  are  flanked  to  the  east  and  west  by  headlands,  or  abut- 
ments, the  slopes  of  which  are  longer  and  more  gradual,  as  it 
to  strengthen  the  great  structure.  Piled  upon  the  four  pyra- 
mids are  others  nearly  as  large,  above  whose  green  pinnacles 
appear  still  other  and  higher  ones,  bare  and  bleak,  and  cluster- 
ing thickly  together,  to  uphold  the  great  central  dome  of  snow. 
Between  the  bases  of  the  lowest,  the  streams  which  drain  the 
gorges  of  the  mountain  issue  forth,  cutting  their  way  through 
the  foundation  terrace,  and  widening  their  beds  downwards  to 
the  plain,  like  the  throats  of  bugles,  where,  in  winter  rains, 
they  pour  forth  the  hoarse,  grand  monotone  of  their  Olympian 
music.  These  broad  beds  are  now  dry  and  stony  tracts,  dotted 
ill  over  with  clumps  of  dwarfed  sycamores  and  threaded  by 
the  summer  streams,  shrunken  in  bulk,  but  still  swift,  cold,  and 
clear  as  ever. 

We  reached  the  city  before  night,  and  Francois  is  glad  to 
find  his  presentiment  fulfilled.  We  have  safely  passed  through 
the  untravclled  heart  of  Asia  Minor,  and  are  now  almost  iu 
sight  of  Europe.  The  camp-fire  is  extinguished  ;  the  tent  iii 
furhd.  We  are  no  longer  happy  nomads,  masquerading  in 
Moslem  garb.  We  shall  soon  become  prosaic  Christians,  and 
vneekly  hold  out  our  wrists  for  the  handcuffs  of  Civilizatioru 


THE    TENT     IS     FURLED.  311 

Ah,  prate  as  we  will  of  the  proejress  of  the  race,  we  are  but 
forging  additional  fetters,  unless  we  preserve  that  healthy  phy- 
sical development,  those  pare  pleasures  of  mere  animal  exist 
ence,  which  are  now  only  to  be  found  among  our  semi-barbaric 
brethren.  Our  progress  is  nervous,  when  it  should  be  mus- 
cular. 


'dlti  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SAKAGHW 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

BROUSA  AND  THE  SEA  OF  MARMORA. 

The  City  of  Brousa — Return  to  Civilization — Storm — The  Kalputcha  nammam-  -A  Bot 
Bath — A  Foretaste  of  Paradise — The  Streets  and  Bazaars  of  Brousa — The  Mosque— 
The  Tombs  of  the  Ottoman  Sultans — Disappearance  of  the  Katurgees — We  start  for 
Moudania — The  Sea  of  Marmora — Moudania — Passport  Difficulties — A  Greek  Caique 
— Breakfast  with  the  Fishermen — A  Torrid  Voyage — The  Princes'  Islands — Prinkipo— 
Distant  View  of  Constantinople — We  enter  the  Golden  Horn. 

"And  we  glode  fast  o'er  a  pellucid  plain 
Of  waters,  azure  with  the  noontide  ray. 
Ethereal  mountains  shone  around — a  fane 
Stood  In  the  midst,  beyond  green  isles  which  lay 
On  the  blue,  sunny  deep,  resplendent  far  away." 

Shellkt. 

Constantinople,  Monday,  July  12, 1852. 

Before  entering  Brousa,  we  passed  the  whole  length  of  tho 
town,  which  is  built  on  the  side  of  Olympus,  and  on  three 
bluffs  or  spurs  which  project  from  it.  The  situation  is  more 
picturesque  than  that  of  Damascus,  and  from  the  remarkable 
number  of  its  white  domes  and  minarets,  shooting  upward  from 
the  groves  of  chestnut,  walnut,  and  cypress-trees,  the  citj  is 
even  more  beautiful.  There  are  large  mosques  on  all  the  most 
prominent  points,  and,  near  the  centre  of  the  city,  the  ruins  of 
an  ancient  castle,  built  upon  a  crag.  The  place,  as  we  rode 
along,  presented  a  shifting  diorama  of  delightful  views.  The 
hotel  is  at  the  extreme  western  end  of  the  city,  not  far  from  its 


RETURN     TO     CIVILIZATION STORM  818 

celebrated  hot  baths.  It  is  a  new  building,  in  European  style, 
and  being  built  high  on  the  slope,  commands  one  of  the  most 
glorious  prospects  I  ever  enjoyed  from  windows  made  with 
hands.  What  a  comfort  it  was  to  go  up  stairs  into  a  clean, 
bright,  cheerful  room  ;  to  drop  at  full  length  on  a  bread  divan  ; 
to  eat  a  Christian  meal  ;  to  smoke  a  narghilch  of  the  softest 
Persian  tobacco  ;  and  finally,  most  exquisite  of  all  luxuries,  to 
creep  between  cool,  clean  sheets,  on  a  curtained  bed,  and  find 
H  impossible  to  sleep  on  account  of  the  delicious  novelty  of  the 
sensation  I 

At  night,  another  storm  came  up  from  the  Sea  of  Marmora. 
Tremendous  peals  of  thunder  echoed  in  the  gorges  of  Olympus 
and  sharp,  broad  flashes  of  lightning  gave  us  blinding  glimpses 
of  the  glorious  plain  below.  The  rain  fell  in  heavy  showers, 
but  our  tent-life  was  just  closed,  and  we  sat  securely  at  our 
windows  and  enjoyed  the  sublime  scene. 

The  sun,  rising  over  the  distant  mountains  of  Isnik,  shone 
full  in  my  face,  awaking  me  to  a  morning  view  of  the  valley, 
which,  freshened  by  the  night's  thunder-storm,  shone  wonder- 
fully bright  and  clear.  After  coffee,  we  went  to  see  the  baths, 
which  are  on  the  side  of  the  mountain,  a  mile  from  the  hotel. 
The  finest  one,  called  the  Kalputchtv  Hammam,  is  at  the  base 
of  the  hill.  The  entrance  hall  is  very  large,  and  covered  by  two 
lofty  domes.  In  the  centre  is  a  large  marble  urn-shaped  foun- 
tain, pouring  out  an  abundant  flood  of  cold  water.  Out  of 
(his,  we  passed  into  an  immense  rotunda,  filled  with  steam  and 
traversed  by  long  pencils  of  light,  falling  from  holes  in  the  roof. 
A  small  but  very  beautiful  marble  fountain  cast  up  a  jet  of  cold 
water  in  the  centre.  Beyond  this  was  still  another  hall,  of  the 
.ame  size,  but  with  a  circular  basin,  twenty-five  feet  in  diame- 

14 


814  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

ter,  in  the  centre.  The  floor  was  marble  mosaic,  and  the  basin 
was  lined  with  brilliantly-colored  tiles.  It  was  kept  constantly 
full  by  the  natural  hot  streams  of  the  mountain.  There  were 
a  number  of  persons  in  the  pool,  but  the  atmosphere  was  s-j 
hot  that  we  did  not  long  disturb  them  by  our  curiosity. 

We  then  ascended  to  the  Armenian  bath,  which  is  the 
neatest  of  all,  but  it  was  given  up  to  the  women,  and  we  were 
therefore  obliged  to  go  to  a  Turkish  one  adjoining.  The  room 
into  which  we  were  taken  was  so  hot  that  a  violent  perspira- 
tion immediately  broke  out  all  over  my  body,  and  by  the  time 
the  delleks  were  ready  to  rasp  me,  I  was  as  limp  as  a  wet  towel, 
and  as  plastic  as  a  piece  of  putty.  The  man  who  took  me  was 
sweated  away  almost  to  nothing  ;  his  very  bones  appeared  to 
have  become  soft  and  pliable.  The  water  was  slightly  sulphu- 
reous, and  the  pailfuls  which  he  dashed  over  my  head  were  so 
hot  that  they  produced  the  effect  of  a  chill — a  violent  nervous 
shudder.  The  temperature  of  the  springs  is  180°  Fahrenheit, 
and  I  suppose  the  tank  into  which  he  afterwards  plunged  me 
must  have  been  nearly  up  to  the  mark.  When,  at  last,  I  was 
laid  on  the  couch,  my  body  was  so  parboiled  that  I  perspired 
at  all  pores  for  full  an  hour — a  feeling  too  warm  and  unpleasant 
at  first,  but  presently  merging  into  a  mood  which  was  wholly 
rapturous  and  heavenly.  I  was  like  a  soft  whi  .e  cloud,  that 
rests  all  of  a  summer  afternoon  on  the  peak  of  a  distant  moun- 
tain. I  felt  the  couch  on  which  I  lay  no  more  than  the  cloud 
might  feel  the  cliffs  on  which  it  lingers  so  airily.  I  saw 
nothing  but  peaceful,  glorious  sights  ;  spaces  of  clear  blue 
sky  ;  stretches  of  quiet  lawns  ;  lovely  valleys  threaded  by  the 
gentlest  of  streams  ;  azure  lakes,  unruffled  by  a  breath ; 
calms  far  out  on  mid-ocean,  and  Alpine  peaks  bathed  in  the 


THE    STREETS    OF    BROUSA,  315 

flash  of  an  autumnal  sunset.  My  mind  retraced  all  our  jour- 
ney from  Aleppo,  and  there  was  a  halo  over  every  spot  I  had 
visited,  I  dwelt  with  rapture  en  the  piny  hills  of  Phrygia,  en 
the  gorges  of  Taurus,  on  the  beechen  solitudes  of  Olympus. 
Would  to  heaven  that  I  might  describe  those  scenes  as  I  then 
felt  them  1  All  was  revealed  to  me  :  the  heart  of  Nature  lay 
bare,  and  I  read  the  meaning  and  knew  the  inspiration  of  hei 
every  mood.  Then,  as  my  frame  grew  cooler,  and  the  fragrant 
clouds  of  the  narghileh,  which  had  helped  my  dreams,  dimin- 
ished, I  was  like  that  same  summer  cloud,  when  it  feels  a 
gentle  breeze  and  is  lifted  above  the  hills,  floating  along  inde- 
pendent of  Earth,  Init  for  its  shadow. 

Bronsa  is  a  very  long,  straggling  place,  extending  for  three 
or  four  miles  along  the  side  of  the  mountain,  but  presenting  a 
very  picturesque  appearance  from  every  point.  The  houses 
are  nearly  all  three  stories  high,  built  of  wood  and  unburnt 
bricks,  and  each  story  projects  over  the  other,  after  the  manner 
of  German  towns  of  the  Middle  Ages.  They  have  not  the 
hanging  balconies  which  I  have  found  so  quaint  and  pleasing 
in  Kiutahya.  But,  especially  in  the  Greek  quarter,  many  of 
them  are  plastered  and  painted  of  some  bright  color,  which 
gives  a  gay,  cheerful  appearance  to  the  streets.  Besides, 
Brousa  is  the  cleanest  Turkish  town  I  have  seen.  The  moun- 
tain streams  traverse  most  of  the  streets,  and  every  heavy  rain 
washes  them  out  thoroughly.  The  whole  city  has  a  brisk, 
active  air,  and  the  workmen  appear  both  more  skilful  and 
more  industrious  than  in  the  other  parts  of  Asia  Minor.  I 
noticed  a  great  many  workers  in  copper,  iron,  and  wood,  aud 
an  extensive  manufactory  of  shoes  and  saddles.  Brousa,  how- 
ever, is  principally  noted  for  its  silks,  which  are  produced  in 


SI 6  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEX. 

this  valley,  and  others  to  the  South  and  East,  The  manufao- 
tories  are  near  the  city.  I  looked  over  some  of  the  fabrics  in 
the  bazaars,  but  found  them  nearly  all  imitations  of  European 
Ftuffs,  woven  ia  mixed  silk  and  cotton,  and  even  more  costly 
tlian  the  silks  of  Damascus. 

We  passed  the  whole  length  of  the  bazaars,  and  then, 
turning  up  one  of  the  side  streets  on  our  right,  crossed  a 
deep  ravine  by  a  high  stone  bridge.  Above  and  below 
as  there  were  other  bridges,  under  which  a  stream  flowed 
down  from  the  mountains.  Thence  we  ascended  the  height, 
whereon  stands  the  largest  and  one  of  the  oldest  mosques  in 
Brousa.  The  position  is  remarkably  fine,  commanding  a  view 
of  nearly  the  whole  city  and  the  plain  below  it.  We  entered 
the  court-yard  boldly,  Fran9ois  taking  the  precaution  to  speak 
to  me  only  in  Arabic,  as  there  was  a  Turk  within.  Mr.  H. 
went  to  the  fountain,  washed  his  hands  and  face,  but  did  not 
dare  to  swallow  a  drop,  putting  on  a  most  dolorous  expression 
of  countenance,  as  if  perishing  with  tliirst.  The  mosque  was 
a  plain,  square  building,  with  a  large  dome  and  two  minarets. 
The  door  was  a  rich  and  curious  specimen  of  the  staladitic 
style,  so  frequent  in  Saracenic  buildings.  We  peeped  into  the 
windows,  and,  although  the  mosque,  which  does  not  appear  to 
be  in  common  use,  was  darkened,  saw  enough  to  show  that  the 
interior  was  quite  plain. 

Just  above  this  edifice  stands  a  large  octagonal  tomb,  sur- 
mounted by  a  dome,  and  richly  adorned  with  arabesque  cornices 
and  coatings  of  green  and  blue  tiles.  It  stood  in  a  small  gar- 
den inclosure,  and  there  was  a  sort  of  porter's  lodge  at  the 
entrance.  As  we  approached,  an  old  gray-bearded  man  in  a 
^een  turban  came  out,  and,  on  Frangois  requesting  entrance 


THE  TOMBS  OF  THE  OTTOMAN  SULTANS.         311 

for  ns,  took  a  key  and  conducted  us  to  the  building.  He  hac 
not  the  slightest  idea  of  our  being  Christians.  We  took  off 
our  slippers  before  touching  the  lintel  of  the  door,  as  the  jdace 
vras  particularly  holy.  Then,  throwing  open  the  door,  the  ola 
man  lingered  a  few  moments  after  we  entered,  so  as  not  to  dis- 
turb our  prayers — a  mark  of  great  respect.  We  advanced  to 
the  edge  of  the  parapet,  turned  our  faces  towards  Mecca,  and 
imitated  the  usual  Mohammedan  prayer  on  entering  a  mosque, 
by  holding  both  arms  outspread  for  a  few  moments,  the  i  bring 
ing  the  hands  together  and  bowing  the  face  upon  theja.  Tliis 
done,  we  leisurely  examined  the  building,  and  the  oil  man  was 
ready  enough  to  satisfy  our  curiosity.  It  was  a  r'ch  and  ele- 
gant structure,  lighted  from  the  dome.  The  wa'Js  were  lined 
with  brilliant  tiles,  and  had  an  elaborate  coruire,  with  Arabic 
inscriptions  in  gold.  Tlie  floor  was  covered  vrith  a  carpet, 
whereon  stood  eight  or  ten  ancient  coflins,  surrounding  a  larger 
one  which  occupied  a  raised  platform  in  the  centre.  They  were 
all  of  wood,  heavily  carved,  and  many  of  them  entirely  covered 
with  gilded  inscriptions.  These,  according  to  the  old  man, 
were  the  coffins  of  the  Ottoman  Sultans,  who  had  reigned  at 
Brousa  previous  to  the  taking  of  Constantinople,  with  some 
members  of  their  families.  There  were  four  Sultans,  among 
whom  were  Mahomet  I.,  and  a  certain  Achmet.  Orchan,  the 
founder  of  the  Ottoman  dynasty,  is  buried  somewhere  ii* 
Brousa,  and  the  great  central  coffin  may  have  been  his.  Fran- 
9ois  and  I  talked  entirely  in  Arabic,  and  the  old  man  asked: 
"  Who  are  these  Hadjis  ?"  whereupon  F.  immediately  answered : 
"They  are  Kffendis  from  Baghdad." 

We  had  intended  making  the  ascent  of  Olympus,  but  the 
lummit  was  too  thickly  covered  with  clouds.     On  the  morning 


318  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

of  the  second  day,  therefore,  we  determined  to  take  up  the  line 
of  march  for  Constantinople.  The  last  scene  of  our  strange^ 
eventful  history  with  the  katurgees  had  just  transpired,  by 
their  deserting  us,  being  two  hundred  piastres  in  our  debt. 
They  left  tlieir  khan  on  the  afternoon  after  our  arrival,  ostensi- 
bly for  the  purpose  of  taking  their  beasts  out  to  pasture,  and 
were  never  heard  of  more.  We  let  them  go,  thankful  t^hat 
they  had  not  played  the  trick  sooner.  "We  engaged  fresh 
horses  for  Moudania,  on  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and  dispatched 
Fran9ois  in  advance,  to  procure  a  caique  for  Constantinople, 
while  we  waited  to  have  our  passports  signed.  But  after 
waiting  an  hour,  as  there  was  no  appearance  of  the  precious 
documents,  we  started  the  baggage  also,  under  the  charge  of  a 
surroudjee,  and  remained  alone.  Another  hour  passed  by,  and 
yet  another,  and  the  Bey  was  still  occupied  in  sleeping  off  his 
hunger.  Mr.  Harrison,  ii>  desperation,  went  to  the  office,  and 
after  some  delay,  received  the  passports  with  a  vise,  but  not,  aa 
we  afterwards  discovered,  the  necessary  one. 

It  was  four  o'clock  by  the  time  we  left  Brousa.  Our  horses 
were  stiff,  clumsy  pack-beasts  ;  but,  by  dint  of  whips  and  the 
sharp  shovel-stirrups,  we  forced  them  into  a  trot  and  made 
them  keep  it.  The  road  was  well  travelled,  and  by  asking 
everybody  we  met :  "Boii  yol  Moudania  yedermi  ?"  ("  Is  this 
the  way  to  Moudania?"),  we  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  it. 
The  plain  in  many  places  is  marshy,  and  traversed  by  several 
Btreams.  A  low  range  of  hills  stretches  across,  and  nearly 
closes  it,  the  united  waters  finding  their  outlet  by  a  narrow 
valley  to  the  north.  From  the  top  of  the  hill  we  had  a  grand 
ucw,  looking  back  over  the  plain,  with  the  long  line  of  Brousa's 
minarets  glittering  through  the  interminable  groves  at  the  fool 


THE     SEA     OF     MARMORA,  819 

of  the  iDountaiu  Olj'mpus  now  showed  a  superb  outline  j  the 
clouds  hung  about  his  shoulders,  but  his  snowy  head  was 
bure.  Before  us  lay  a  broad,  rich  valley,  extending  in  front  to 
the  mountains  of  Moudania.  The  country  was  well  cultivated 
with  large  farming  estaljlishments  here  and  there. 

The  sun  was  setting  as  we  reached  the  summit  ridge,  where 
stood  a  little  guard-house.  As  we  rode  over  the  crest,  Olym- 
pus disappeared,  and  the  Sea  of  Marmora  lay  before  us,  spread- 
ing out  from  the  Gulf  of  Moudania,  which  was  deep  and  blue 
among  the  hills,  to  an  open  line  against  the  sunset.  Beyond 
that  misty  line  lay  J]urope,  which  I  had  not  seen  for  nearly 
nine  months,  and  the  gulf  below  me  was  the  bound  of  my  tent 
and  saddle  life.  But  one  hour  more,  old  horse  !  Have  pati- 
ence with  my  Ethiopian  thong,  and  the  sharp  corners  of  my 
Turkish  stirrups  :  but  one  hour  more,  and  I  promise  never  to 
molest  you  again  !  Our  path  was  downward,  and  I  marvel 
that  the  poor  brute  did  not  sometimes  tumble  headlong  with 
me.  He  had  been  too  long  used  to  the  pack,  however,  and  his 
habits  were  as  settled  as  a  Turk's.  We  passed  a  beautiful 
village  in  a  valley  on  the  right,  and  came  into  oli'^e  groves  and 
vineyards,  as  the  dusk  was  creeping  on.  It  was  a  lovely 
country  of  orchards  and  gardens,  with  fountains  spouting  by 
the  wayside,  and  country  houses  perched  on  the  steeps.  In 
another  h3ur,  we  reached  the  sea-shore.  It  was  now  nearly 
dark,  but  we  could  see  the  tower  of  Moudania  somr  distance  tc 
the  west. 

Still  in  a  continual  trot,  we  rode  on  ;  and  as  we  ircw  near, 
Mr,  H.  fired  his  gun  to  announce  our  approach.  At  the 
entrance  of  the  town,  we  found  the  sonrrudjee  waitios:  to  con^ 
duct  us.     We  clattered  through  the  rough  street*  for  what 


320  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN-, 

eeemed  an  endless  length  of  time.  The  Ramazan  gau  had  jast 
fired,  the  minarets  were  illuminated,  and  the  coffee-houses  were 
filled  with  people.  Finally,  Francois,  who  had  been  almos-t  in 
despair  at  our  non-appearance,  hailed  us  with  the  welcome 
news  that  he  had  engaged  a  caiqne,  and  that  our  baggage  was 
already  embarked.  We  only  needed  the  vises  of  the  authori- 
ties, in  order  to  leave.  He  took  our  teskeres  to  get  them,  and 
we  went  upon  the  balcony  of  a  coffee-house  overhanging  tho 
Bca,  and  smoked  a  narghileh. 

But  here  there  was  another  history.  The  teskeres  had  not 
been  properly  vised  at  Brousa,  and  the  Governor  at  first 
decided  to  send  us  back.  Taking  Fran9ois,  however,  for  a 
Turk,  and  finding  that  we  had  regularly  passed  quarantine,  he 
signed  them  after  a  delay  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  we  left 
the  shore,  weary,  impatient,  and  wolfish  with  twelve  hours' 
fasting.  A  cup  of  Brousan  beer  and  a  piece  of  bread  brought 
us  into  a  better  mood,  and  I,  who  began  to  feel  sick  from  the 
rolling  of  the  caique,  lay  down  on  my  bed,  which  was  spread 
at  the  bottom,  and  found  a  kind  of  uneasy  sleep.  The  sail  was 
hoisted  at  first,  to  get  us  across  the  mouth  of  the  Gulf,  but 
soon  the  Greeks  took  to  their  oars.  They  were  silent,  how- 
ever, and  though  I  only  slept  by  fits,  the  night  wore  away 
rapidly.  As  the  dawn  was  deepening,  we  ran  into  a  little 
bight  in  the  northern  side  of  a  promontory,  where  a  picturesque 
Greek  village  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  The  houses 
were  of  wood,  with  balconies  overgrown  with  grape-vines,  and 
there  was  a  fountain  of  cold,  excellent  water  on  the  very  beach. 
Some  Greek  boatmen  were  smoking  in  the  portico  of  a  cafe  on 
shore,  and  two  fishermen,  who  hud  been  out  before  dawn  tc 
catch  sardines,  were  emptying  their  nets  of  the  spoil.     Our 


A    TORRID     VOVAOE.  321 

men  kindled  a  fire  on  the  sand,  and  roasted  us  a  dish  of  tlia 
fish.  Some  of  the  last  night  3  hunger  remained,  and  the  meal 
had  enongli  of  that  seasoning  to  be  delicious. 

After  giving  onr  men  an  hour's  rest,  we  eet  off  for  the 
Princes'  Islands,  which  now  appeared  to  the  north,  over  tho 
glassy  plain  of  the  sea.  The  Gulf  of  Iskraid,  or  Nicomedia, 
opened  away  to  the  east,  between  two  mountain  headlands. 
The  morning  was  intensely  hot  and  sultry,  and  but  for  the  pro- 
tection of  an  umbrella,  we  should  have  suQorcd  greatly.  There 
was  a  fiery  blue  vapor  on  the  sea,  and  a  thunder-cloud  hid  the 
shores  of  Thrace.  Now  and  then  came  a  light  puff  of  wind, 
whereupon  the  men  would  ship  the  little  mast,  and  crowd  on 
an  enormous  quantity  of  sail.  So,  sailing  and  rowing,  we 
neared  the  islands  with  the  storm,  but  it  advanced  slowly 
enough  to  allow  a  sight  of  the  mosques  of  St.  Sophia  and  Sul- 
tan Achmed,  gleaming  far  and  white,  like  icebergs  astray  on  a 
torrid  sea.  Another  cloud  was  pouring  its  rain  over  the  Asian 
shore,  and  we  made  haste  to  get  to  the  landing  at  Priukipo 
before  it  could  roach  us.  From  the  south,  the  group  of  islands 
is  not  remarkable  for  beauty.  Only  four  of  them — Priukipo, 
Chalki,  Prote,  and  Antigone— are  inhabited,  the  other  five 
being  merely  barren  rocks. 

There  is  an  ancient  convent  on  the  summit  of  Priukipo, 
where  the  Empress  Irene— the  contemporary  of  Charlemagne— 
is  buried.  The  town  is  on  the  northern  side  of  the  island,  and 
consists  mostly  of  the  summer  residences  of  Greek  and  Arme- 
niaj.  merchants.  Many  of  these  are  large  and  stately  houses 
surrounded  with  handsome  gardens.  The  streets  are  shaded 
with  sycamores,  and  the  number  of  coffee-houses  shows  that 
the  place  is  much  frequented  on  festal  days.  A  company  of 
14* 


822  THE     LANDS    OF    THE    SARACEN. 

drunken  Greeks  were  singing  in  violation  of  all  metre  and  bar 
mony — a  discord  the  more  remarkable,  since  nothing  could  be 
more  affectionate  than  their  conduct  towards  each  other. 
"Nearly  everybody  was  in  Frank  costume,  and  our  Oriental 
habits,  especially  the  red  Tartar  boots,  attracted  much  obscr 
vation.  I  began  to  feel  awkward  and  absurd,  and  longed  to 
show  myself  a  Christian  once  more. 

Leaving  Prinkipo,  we  made  for  Constantinople,  whose  long 
array  of  marble  domes  and  gilded  spires  gleamed  like  a  far 
mirage  over  the  waveless  sea.  It  was  too  faint  and  distant 
and  dazzling  to  be  substantial.  It  was  like  one  of  those  imagi- 
nary cities  which  we  build  in  a  cloud  fused  in  the  light  of  the 
setting  sun.  But  as  we  neared  the  point  of  Chalcedon,  running 
along  the  Asian  shore,  those  airy  piles  gathered  form  and  sub- 
stance. The  pinnacles  of  the  Seraglio  shot  up  from  the  midst 
of  cypress  groves  ;  fantastic  kiosks  lined  the  shore  ;  the  mina- 
rets of  St.  Sophia  and  Sultan  Achmed  rose  more  clearly  against 
the  sky;  and  a  fleet  of  steamers  and  men-of-war,  gay  with  flags, 
marked  the  entrance  of  the  Golden  Horn.  We  passed  the 
little  bay  where  St.  Chrysostom  was  buried,  the  point  of  Chal- 
cedon, and  now,  looking  up  the  renowned  Bosphorus,  saw  the 
Maiden's  Tower,  opposite  Scutari.  An  enormous  pile,  the 
barracks  of  the  Anatolian  soldiery,  hangs  over  the  high  bank, 
and,  as  we  row  abreast  of  it,  a  fresh  breeze  comes  up  from  the 
Sea  of  Marmora.  The  prow  of  the  caique  is  turned  across  the 
stream,  the  sail  is  set,  and  we  glide  rapidly  and  noiselessly  over 
the  Bosphorus  and  into  the  Golden  Horn,  between  the  banks 
of  the  Frank  and  Moslem — Pera  and  Stamboul.  Where  on 
the  earth  shall  we  find  a  panorama  more  magnificent  ? 

The  air  was  filled  with  the  shouts  and  noises  of  the  great 


Wa  ENTER  THE  GOLDEN  HORN.  32S 

Oriental  metropolis  ;  the  water  was  alive  with  caiques  and 
little  steamers ;  and  all  the  world  of  work  and  trade,  which 
had  grown  almost  to  bo  a  fable,  welcomed  us  back  to  its  rest- 
less heart.  We  threaded  our  rather  perilous  way  over  the 
populous  waves,  and  landed  in  a  throng  of  Custom-Uousfc 
cifioera  and  porters,  on  the  wharf  at  Qalata 


324  THE    lANDS    OF    THE    SARACEN. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE     NIGHT     OF     PREDESTINATION. 

Constantinople  in  Ramazan — The  Origin  of  the  Fast — Nightly  r.lumination*-  The  Night 
of  Predestination — The  Golden  Horn  at  Night — Illumination  of  the  Si  ores — Th« 
Cannon  of  Constantinople — A  Fiery  Panorama — The  Sultan's  Caique — Close  of  tiia 
Celebration — A  Turkish  Mob^The  Dancing  Dervishes. 

"  Skies  full  of  splendid  moons  and  shooting  stars, 
And  spouting  exhalations,  diamond  fires,"  Esats. 

CossTANTiKOPLE,  Wednesday,  July  11, 1652. 

Constantinople,  during  the  month  of  Ramazan,  presents  a 
very  diSerent  aspect  from  Constantinople  at  other  times.  The 
city,  it  is  true,  is  much  more  stern  and  serious  during  tlie  day; 
there  is  none  of  that  gay,  careless  life  of  the  Orient  which  you 
see  in  Smyrna,  Cairo,  and  Damascus ;  but  when  once  the  sun- 
set gun  has  fired,  and  the  painful  fast  is  at  an  end,  the  picture 
changes  as  if  by  magic.  In  all  the  outward  symbols  of  their 
religion,  the  Mussulmans  show  their  joy  at  being  relieved  from 
what  they  consider  a  sacred  duty.  During  the  day,  it  is  quite 
a  science  to  keep  the  appetite  dormant,  and  the  people  not  only 
abstain  from  eating  and  drinking,  but  as  much  as  possible  from 
the  sight  of  food.  In  the  bazaars,  you  s^e  the  famished  mer- 
chants either  sitting,  propped  back  against  their  cushions,  with 
the  shawl  about  their  stomachs,  tightened  so  as  to  prevent  the 
?oid  under  it  from  being  so  sensibly  felt,  or  lying  at  full  length 


THE     ORIGIN     OF     RAMAZAN.  323 

in  the  vain  attempt  to  sleep.  It  is  wliispered  here  that  many 
of  the  Turks  will  both  eat  and  smoke,  when  there  is  no  clianci' 
of  detection,  but  uo  one  would  dare  infringe  the  fast  in  pul)lic. 
Most  of  the  mechanics  and  porters  arc  Armenians,  and  tli« 
boatmen  are  Greeks. 

I  have  endeavored  to  ascertain  the  origin  of  this  fast  mouth. 
The  Syrian  Christians  say  that  it  is  a  mere  imitation  of  an 
incident  which  hapi)encd  to  Mahomet.  The  Prophet,  having 
lost  his  camels,  went  day  after  day  seeking  them  in  the  Desert, 
taking  no  nourishment  from  the  time  of  his  departure  in  the 
morning  until  his  return  at  sunset.  After  having  sought  them 
thus  daily,  for  the  period  of  one  entire  moon,  he  found  them, 
and  in  t^kcn  of  joy,  gave  a  three  days'  feast  to  the  tribe,  now 
imitated  in  the  festival  of  Bairam,  which  lasts  for  three  days 
after  the  close  of  Raraazan.  This  reason,  however,  seems  too 
trifling  for  such  a  rigid  fust,  and  the  Turkish  tradition,  that  the 
Koran  was  sent  down  from  lieaven  duri4ig  this  month,  offers  a 
more  probable  exphuuition.  During  the  fast,  the  Mussulmans, 
as  is  quite  natural,  are  much  moi'e  fanatical  than  at  other 
times.  They  are  obhged  to  attend  prayers  at  the  mosquo 
every  night,  or  to  have  a  nwllak  read  the  Koran  to  them  at 
their  own  houses.  All  the  prominent  features  of  their  religion 
are  kept  constantly  before  tlieir  eyes,  and  their  natural  aver 
fcion  to  the  Giaour,  or  Infidel,  is  increased  tenfold.  I  have 
heard  of  several  recent  instances  in  which  strangers  have  been 
Pjsposed  to  insults  and  indignities. 

At  dusk  the  minarets  are  illuminated  ;  a  peal  of  cannon  from 
the  Arsenal,  echoed  by  others  from  the  forts  along  the  Bos- 
pb3rus,  relieves  the  suffering  followers  of  the  Prophet,  and  aftei 
on  hour  of  silence,  during  which  they  are  all  at  home,  feast 


326  THE  L\NDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

ing,  the  streets  are  filled  with  noisy  crowds,  and  every  coffee, 
shop  is  thronged.  Every  night  there  are  illurainations  along 
the  water,  M-hich,  added  to  the  crowns  of  light  sparkling  on 
the  hundred  minarets  and  domes,  give  a  magical  effect  to  tho 
eight  view  of  the  city.  Towards  midnight  there  is  again  a 
season  of  comparative  quiet,  most  of  the  inhabitants  having 
retired  to  rest  ;  but,  about  two  hours  afterwards  a  watchman 
comes  along  with  a  big  drum,  which  he  beats  lustily  before  the 
doors  of  the  Faithful,  in  order  to  arouse  them  in  time  to  eat 
again  before  the  daylight-gun,  which  announces  the  commenco 
ment  of  another  day's  fast. 

Last  night  was  the  holiest  night  of  Islam,  being  the  twenty 
fifth  of  the  fast.  It  is  called  the  Leilet-el-Kadr,  or  Night  of  the 
Predestination,  the  anniversary  of  that  on  which  the  Koran  was 
miraculously  communicated  to  the  Prophet.  On  this  night 
the  Sultan,  accompanied  by  his  whole  suite,  attends  service  at 
the  mosque,  and  on  his  return  to  the  Seraglio,  the  Sultana 
Valide,  or  Sultana-Mother,  presents  him  with  a  virgin  from  one 
of  the  noble  families  of  Constantinople.  Formerly,  St.  Sophia 
was  the  theatre  of  this  celebration,  but  this  year  the  Sultan 
chose  the  Mosque  of  Tophaneh,  which  stands  on  the  shore — 
probably  as  being  nearer  to  his  imperial  palace  at  Beshiktashe, 
on  the  Bosphorus.  I  consider  myself  fortunate  in  having 
reached  Constantinople  in  season  to  witness  this  ceremony,  and 
the  illumination  of  the  Golden  Horn,  which  accompanies  it. 

After  sunset  tlie  mosques  crowning  the  hills  of  Stamboul,  the 
mosque  of  Tophaneh,  on  this  side  of  the  water,  and  the  Turkish 
men-of-war  and  steamers  afloat  at  the  mouth  of  the  Golden 
Horn,  began  to  blaze  with  more  than  their  usual  brilliance. 
The  outlines  of  the  minarets  and  domes  were  drawn  in  light  oc 


THE   GOLDEN   HORN   AT   NI3nT.  381 

the  deepening  gloom,  and  the  masts  and  yards  of  the  vessel 
were  hung  with  colored  lanterns.  From  the  battery  in  front 
of  the  mosque  and  arsenal  of  Tophaneh  a  blaze  of  intense  liglit 
streamed  out  over  the  water,  illuminating  the  gliding  forms  of 
a  thousand  caiques,  and  the  dark  hulls  of  the  vessels  lying  at 
anchor.  The  water  is  the  best  place  from  which  to  view  the 
illumination,  and  a  party  of  us  descended  to  the  landing-place. 
The  streets  of  Tophaneh  were  crowded  with  swarms  of  Turks, 
Greeks  and  Armenians.  The  square  around  the  fountain  was 
brilliantly  lighted,  and  venders  of  sherbet  and  kaimak  wera 
ranged  along  the  sidewalks.  In  the  neighborhood  of  the 
mosque  the  crowd  was  so  dense  that  we  could  with  difficulty 
make  our  way  through.  All  the  open  space  next  the  water  was 
filled  up  with  the  clumsy  arahas,  or  carriages  of  the  Turks,  in 
which  sat  the  wives  of  the  Pashas  and  other  dignitaries. 

We  took  a  caique,  and  were  soon  pulled  out  into  the  midst  of 
a  multitude  of  other  caiques,  swarming  all  over  the  surface  of 
the  Golden  Horn.  The  view  from  this  point  was  strange, 
fantastic,  yet  inconceivably  gorgeous.  In  front,  three  or  four 
large  Turkish  frigates  lay  in  the  Bosphorus,  their  hulls  and 
Bpars  outlined  in  fire  against  the  dark  hills  and  distant  twink- 
ling lights  of  Asia.  Looking  to  the  west,  the  shores  of  the 
Golden  Horn  were  equally  traced  by  the  multitude  of  lamps 
that  covered  them,  and  on  either  side,  the  hills  on  which  the 
city  is  built  rose  from  the  water— masses  of  dark  buildings, 
dotted  all  over  with  shafts  and  domes  of  the  most  brilliant 
light.  The  gateway  on  Seraglio  Point  was  illuminated,  as  well 
as  the  quay  in  front  of  the  mosque  of  Tophaneh,  all  the  can- 
nons of  the  battery  being  covered  with  lamps.  The  commonest 
objects  shared  in  the  splendor,  even  a  large  lever  used  foi 


^28  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN. 

hoisting  goods  being  hnng  with  lanterns  from  top  to  bottom 
The  mosque  was  a  nass  of  light,  and  between  the  tall  minarets 
flanking  it,  burned  the  inscription,  in  Arabic  characters,  "Lontj 
life  to  you,  0  our  Sovereign  !" 

The  discharge  of  a  cannon  announced  the  Sultan's  departure 
from  his  palace,  and  immediately  the  guns  on  the  frigates  and 
the  batteries  on  both  shores  took  up  the  salute,  till  the  grand 
echoes,  filling  the  hollow  throat  of  the  Golden  Horn,  crashed 
from  side  to  side,  striking  the  hills  of  Scutari  and  the  point  of 
Chalcedon,  and  finally  dying  away  among  the  summits  of  the 
Princes'  Islands,  out  on  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  The  hulls  of  the 
frigates  were  now  lighted  up  with  intense  chemical  fires,  and 
an  abundance  of  rockets  were  spouted  from  their  decks.  A. 
large  Drummond  light  on  Seraglio  Point,  and  another  at  the 
Battery  of  Tophanch,  poured  their  rival  streams  across  the 
Golden  Horn,  revealing  the  thousands  of  caiques  jostling  each 
other  from  shore  to  shore,  and  the  endless  variety  of  gay  cos- 
tumes with  which  they  were  filled.  The  smoke  of  the  cannon 
banging  in  the  air,  increased  the  effect  of  this  illumination,  and 
became  a  screen  of  auroral  brightness,  through  which  the 
superb  spectacle  loomed  with  large  and  unreal  features.  It 
was  a  picture  of  air — a  phantasmagoric  spectacle,  built  of 
luminous  vapor  and  meteoric  fires,  and  hanging  iu  the  dark 
round  of  space.  In  spite  of  ourselves,  we  became  eager  and 
excited,  half  fearing  that  the  whole  pageant  would  dissolve  the 
next  moment,  and  leave  no  trace  behind. 

Meanwhile,  the  cannon  thundered  from  a  dozen  batteries,  and 
the  rockets  burst  into  glittering  rain  over  our  heads.  Grandei 
discharges  I  never  heard  ;  the  earth  shook  and  trembled  under 
the  mighty  bursts  of  sound,  and  the  reverberation  which  rat- 


ILLUMINATION    OF    TUE    SHORES.  329 

tied  along  the  hill  of  Galata,  broken  by  the  scattered  buildings 
into  innumerable  fragments  of  sound,  resembled  the  crusn  oi  a 
thousand  falling  houses.  The  distant  echoes  from  Asia  and  the 
islands  in  the  sea  flllod  up  the  j)auses  between  the  nearer  peals, 
uud  we  seemed  to  be  in  the  midst  of  some  great  uaval  engage- 
ment. But  now  the  caique  of  the  Sultan  is  discerned,  approach- 
ing from  the  Bosphorus.  A  signal  is  given,  and  a  sunrise  of 
intense  rosy  and  golden  radiance  suddenly  lights  up  the  long 
arsenal  and  stately  moscjuc  of  Tophanch,  plays  over  the  tall 
buildings  ou  the  hill  of  Pera,  and  falls  with  a  fainter  lustre  oa 
the  Genoese  watch-tower  that  overlooks  Galata.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  describe  the  effect  of  this  magical  illumination.  The 
mosque,  with  its  taper  minarets,  its  airy  galleries,  and  its  great 
central  dome,  is  built  of  compact,  transparent  flame,  and  in  the 
shifting  of  the  red  and  yellow  fires,  seems  to  flicker  and  waver 
in  the  air.  It  is  as  lofty,  and  gorgeous,  and  unsubstantial  as 
the  cloudy  palace  in  Colo's  picture  of  "  Youth."  The  long 
white  front  of  the  arsenal  is  fused  in  crimson  heat,  and  burns 
against  the  dark  as  if  it  were  one  mass  of  living  coal.  And 
over  all  hangs  the  luminous  canopy  of  smoke,  redoubling  its 
lustre  on  the  waters  of  the  Golden  Horn,  and  mingling  with 
the  phosphorescent  gleams  that  play  around  the  oars  of  the 
caiques. 

A  long  barge,  propelled  by  sixteen  oars,  glides  around  the 
dark  corner  of  Tophaneh,  and  shoots  into  the  clear,  brilliaut 
space  in  front  of  the  mosque.  It  is  not  lighted,  and  passes 
with  great  swiftness  towards  the  brilliant  landing-place.  There 
are  several  persons  seated  under  a  canopy  in  the  stern,  and  we 
arc  trying  to  decide  which  is  the  Sultan,  when  a  second  boat, 
driven  by  twenfy-four  oarsmen,  comes  in  sight.     The  men  ris^ 


330  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

np  at  eacli  stroke,  and  the  long,  sharp  craft  flies  over  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  rather  than  forces  its  way  through  it.  A 
gilded  crown  surmounts  the  long,  curved  prow,  and  a  light 
though  superb  canopy  covers  the  stern.  Under  this,  we  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  Sultan  and  Grand  Yizier,  as  they  appear  for  an 
Uistant  like  black  silhouettes  against  the  burst  of  light  on  shore. 
After  the  Sultan  had  entered  the  mosque,  the  fires  dimiU' 
ished  and  the  cannon  ceased,  though  the  illuminated  masts, 
minarets  and  gateways  still  threw  a  brilliant  gleam  over  the 
scene.  After  more  than  an  hour  spent  in  devotion,  he  again 
entered  his  caique  and  sped  away  to  greet  his  new  wife,  amid  a 
fresh  discharge  from  the  frigates  and  the  batteries  on  both 
shores,  and  a  new  dawn  of  auroral  splendor.  We  made  haste 
to  reach  the  landing-place,  in  order  to  avoid  the  crowd  of 
ca'iques  ;  but,  although  we  were  among  the  first,  we  came  near 
being  precipitated  into  the  water,  in  the  struggle  to  get  ashore. 
The  market-place  at  Tophaneh  was  so  crowded  that  nothing 
but  main  force  brought  us  through,  and  some  of  our  party  had 
<"heii  pockets  picked.  A  number  of  Turkish  soldiers  and  police- 
meii  were  mixed  up  in  the  melee,  and  they  were  not  sparing  of 
blows  when  they  came  in  contact  with  a  Giaour.  In  making 
my  way  through,  I  found  that  a  collision  with  one  of  the  sol- 
diers was  inevitable,  but  I  managed  to  plump  against  him  with 
such  force  as  to  take  the  breath  out  of  his  body,  and  was  out 
of  his  reach  before  he  had  recovered  himself.  I  saw  several 
Turkish  women  striking  right  and  left  in  their  endeavors  to 
escape,  and  place  their  hands  against  the  faces  of  those  who 
opposed  them,  pushing  them  asvie.  This  crowd  was  contrived 
by  thieves,  for  the  purpose  of  plunder,  and,  from  what  I  have 
since  learned,  must  have  been  very  successful. 


THE  DANCiNG  DERVISHES  881 

I  visited  to-day  the  College  of  the  Mevlevi  Dervislies  al 
Pera,  and  witnessed  their  peculiar  ceremonies.  They  asserabl« 
in  a  large  hall,  where  they  take  their  stats  in  a  semi-circle, 
facing  the  shckh.  After  going  through  several  times  with  the 
usual  Moslem  prayer,  they  move  in  slow  march  around  the 
room,  while  a  choir  in  the  gallery  chants  Arabic  phrases  in  a 
manner  very  similar  to  the  mass  in  Catholic  churches.  I  could 
distinguish  the  sentences  "  God  is  great,"  "  Praise  be  to  God," 
and  other  similar  ejaculations.  The  chant  was  accompanied 
with  a  drum  and  flute,  and  had  not  lasted  long  before  the  Der- 
vishes set  themselves  in  a  rotary  motion,  spinning  slowly  around 
the  shekh,  who  stood  in  the  centre.  They  stretched  both  arms 
out,  dropped  their  heads  on  one  side,  and  glided  around  with  a 
steady,  regular  motion,  their  long  white  gowns  spread  out  and 
floating  on  the  air.  Their  steps  were  very  similar  to  those  of 
the  modern  waltz,  which,  it  is  possible,  may  have  been  derived 
from  the  dance  of  the  Mevlevis.  Baron  Von  Hammer  finda 
iu  this  ceremony  an  imitation  of  the  dance  of  the  spheres,  in 
the  ancient  Samothracian  Mysteries  ;  but  I  see  no  reason  to 
go  so  far  back  for  its  origin.  The  dance  lasted  for  about 
twenty  minutes,  and  the  Dervishes  appeared  very  much 
exhausted  at  the  close,  as  they  are  obliged  to  observe  th(  fast 
very  strictly. 


832  THE  LANDS  OF  THK  SARACEM 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE     SOLEMNITIES     OF     BAIRAM 

The  Appearance  of  the  New  Moon — The  Festival  of  Bairam — The  Interior  uf  tli« 
Seraglio — The  Pomp  of  the  Sultan's  Court — Reschid  Pasha — The  Sultan's  Ewaif— 
Arabian  Stallions — The  Imperial  Guard — Appearance  of  the  Sultan — The  Inner  Court 
— Return  of  the  Procession — The  Sultan  on  his  Throne — The  Homage  of  the  Pa?has 
— An  Oriental  Picture — Kissing  the  Scarf — The  Shekh  el-Islam — The  Descendant  of 
the  Caliphs — Bairam  Commences. 

Constantinople,  Monday,  July  19, 1852. 

Saturday  was  the  last  day  of  the  fast-month  of  Ramazan,  and 
yesterday  the  celebration  of  the  solemn  festival  of  Bairam 
took  place.  The  moon  changed  on  Friday  morning  at  II 
o'clock,  but  as  the  Turks  have  no  faith  in  astronomy,  and  do 
not  believe  the  moon  has  actually  changed  until  they  see  it,  all 
good  Mussulmea  were  obliged  to  fast  an  additional  day.  Had 
Saturday  been  cloudy,  and  the  new  moon  invisible,  I  am  not 
sure  but  the  fast  would  have  been  still  further  prolonged.  A 
good  look-out  was  kept,  however,  and  about  four  o'clock  on 
Saturday  afternoon  some  sharp  eyes  saw  the  young  crescent 
above  the  sun.  There  is  a  hill  near  Gemlik,  on  the  Gulf  of 
Moudania,  about  fifty  miles  from  here,  whence  the  Turka 
believe  the  new  moon  can  be  first  seen.  The  families  who  live 
on  this  hill  are  exempted  from  taxation,  in  consideration  of 
their  keeping  a  watch  for  the  moon,  at  the  close  of  Ramazan 


THE    FESTIVAL    OF    BAIRAM.  333 

A  series  of  signals,  from  hill  to  hill,  is  in  readiness,  and  iha 
news  is  transmitted  to  Constantinople  in  a  very  short  time 
Then,  when  the  muezzin  proclaims  the  asser,  or  prayer  two 
hours  before  sunset,  he  proclaims  also  the  close  of  Ramazan. 
All  the  batteries  fire  a  salute,  and  the  big  guns  along  the 
water  announce  the  joyful  news  to  all  parts  of  the  city.  The 
forts  on  the  Bosphorus  take  up  the  tale,  and  both  shores,  from 
the  Black  Sea  to  the  Propontis,  shake  with  the  burden  of 
their  rejoicing.  At  night  the  mosques  are  illuminated  for  the 
last  time,  for  it  is  only  during  Ramazau  that  they  are  lighted, 
or  open  for  night  service. 

After  Ramazan,  comes  the  festival  of  Bairam,  which  lasts 
three  days,  and  is  a  season  of  unbounded  rejoicing.  The 
bazaars  are  closed,  no  Turk  does  any  work,  but  all,  clothed  in 
their  best  dresses,  or  in  an  entire  new  suit  if  they  can  afford  it, 
pass  the  time  in  feasting,  in  paying  visits,  or  in  making  excur- 
sions to  the  shores  of  the  Bosphorus,  or  other  favorite  spots 
around  Constantinople.  The  festival  is  inaugurated  by  a 
solemn  state  ceremony,  at  the  Seraglio  and  the  mosque  of 
Sultan  Achmed,  whither  the  Sultan  goes  in  procession,  accom- 
panied by  all  the  officers  of  the  Government.  This  is  the  last 
remaining  pageant  which  has  been  spared  to  the  Ottoman 
monarchs  by  the  rigorous  reforming  measures  of  Sultan  Alah- 
moud,  and  shorn  as  it  is  of  much  of  its  former  splendor,  it 
probably  surpasses  in  brilliant  effect  any  spectacle  which  anj" 
other  European  Court  can  present.  The  ceremonies  which  take 
place  inside  of  the  Seraglio  were,  uutil  within  three  or  four 
years,  prohibited  to  Frank  eyes,  and  travellers  were  obliged  to 
content  themselves  with  a  view  of  the  procession,  as  it  passed 
to  the  mosque.     Through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Brown,  of  the 


334  THE     LAND3     OF    THE     SARACEX. 

American  Embassy,  I  was  enabled  to  witness  the  tntire  solem- 
nity, in  all  its  details. 

As  the  procession  leaves  the  Seraglio  at  sunrise,  we  rose  with 
the  first  streak  of  dawn,  descended  to  Tophaneh,  and  crossed 
to  Seraglio  Point,  where  the  cavass  of  the  Embassy  was  in 
waiting  for  us.  He  conducted  us  through  the  guards,  into  the 
garden  of  the  Seraglio,  and  up  the  hill  to  the  Palace.  The 
Capudan  Pasha,  or  Lord  High  Admiral,  had  just  arrived  in  a 
splendid  caique,  and  pranced  up  the  hill  before  us  on  a  magni- 
ficent stallion,  whose  trappings  blazed  with  jewels  and  gold 
lace.  The  rich  uniforms  of  the  different  officers  of  the  army 
and  marine  glittered  far  and  near  under  the  dense  shadows  of 
the  cypress  trees,  and  down  the  dark  alleys  where  the  morning 
twilight  had  not  penetrated.  We  were  ushered  into  the  great 
outer  court-yard  of  the  Seraglio,  leading  to  the  Sublime  Porte. 
A  double  row  of  marines,  in  scarlet  jackets  and  white 
trowsers,  extended  from  one  gate  to  the  other,  and  a  very 
excellent  brass  band  played  "  Suoni  la  tromba"  with  much 
spirit.  The  groups  of  Pashas  and  other  officers  of  high  rank, 
with  their  attendants,  gave  the  scene  a  brilliant  character  of 
festivity.  The  costumes,  except  those  of  the  secretaries  and 
servants,  were  after  the  European  model,  but  covered  with  a 
lavish  profusion  of  gold  lace.  The  horses  were  all  of  the 
choicest  Eastern  breeds,  and  the  broad  housings  of  their  sad- 
dles of  blue,  green,  purple,  and  crimson  cloth,  were  enriched 
with  gold  lace,  rubies,  emeralds  and  turquoises. 

The  cavass  took  us  into  a  chamber  near  the  gate,  and  com- 
manding a  view  of  the  whole  court.  There  we  found  Mr. 
Brown  and  his  lady,  with  several  officers  from  the  U.  S. 
Bteamor   San  Jacinto.     At  this  moment  the  sun,  appearing 


THE    PROCESSION    TO    THE  MOSQUE.  335 

above  the  hill  of  Bulj,^urla,  behind  Scutari,  threw  his  earliest 
rays  u})on  the  gilded  piunaoles  of  the  Seraglio.  The  coinmo- 
tioQ  in  the  long  court-yard  below  iucrcascd.  The  marines  were 
formed  into  exact  line,  the  horses  of  the  officers  clattered  on 
the  rough  pavement  as  they  dashed  about  to  expedite  the 
arrangements,  the  crowd  pressed  closer  to  the  line  of  the  pro- 
cession, and  in  five  minutes  the  grand  pageant  was  set  in 
motion.  As  the  first  Pasha  made  his  appearance  under  the 
dark  archway  of  the  interior  gate,  the  band  struck  up  the 
Marseillaise  (which  is  a  favorite  air  among  the  Turks),  and  the 
soldiers  presented  arras.  The  court-yard  was  near  two  hun- 
dred yards  long,  and  the  line  of  Pashas,  each  surrounded  with 
the  officers  of  his  staff,  made  a  most  dazzling  show.  The  lowest 
in  rank  came  first.  I  cannot  recollect  the  precise  order,  nor  the 
names  of  all  of  them,  which,  in  fact,  are  of  little  consequence, 
while  power  and  place  are  such  uncertain  matters  in  Turkey. 

Each  Pasha  wore  the  red  fez  on  his  head,  a  frock-coat  of 
blue  cloth,  the  breast  of  wliich  was  entirely  covered  with  gold 
lace,  while  a  broad  band  of  the  same  decorated  the  skirts,  and 
white  pantaloons.  One  of  the  Ministers,  Mehemet  Ali  Pasha, 
the  brother-in-law  of  the  Sultan,  was  formerly  a  cooper's 
apprentice,  but  taken,  when  a  boy,  by  the  late  Sultan  Mah- 
moud,  to  be  a  playmate  for  his  son,  on  account  of  his  extraor- 
dinary beauty.  Reschid  Pasha,  the  Grand  Yiziei,  is  a  man  of 
about  sixty  years  of  age.  lie  is  frequently  called  Giaour,  or 
iLfidul,  by  the  Turks,  on  account  of  his  liberal  policy,  which 
has  made  him  many  enemies.  The  expression  of  his  face 
denotes  intilligcntc,  but  lacks  the  energy  necessary  to  accom- 
plish great  reforms.  Uis  son,  a  boy  of  about  seventeen,  alreadj 
possesses  the  rank  of  Pashaj  and  is  affianced  to  the  Sultan's 


836  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

daughter,  a  child  of  ten  or  twelve  years  old.  He  ia  a  fat 
nandsome  youth,  with  a  sprightly  face,  and  acted  his  part  in 
the  ceremonies  with  a  nonchalance  which  made  him  appeal 
graceful  beside  his  stiff,  dignified  elders. 

After  the  Pashas  came  the  entire  household  of  the  Sultan, 
Including  even  his  eunuchs,  cooks,  and  constables.     The  Kislar 
Aga,  or  Chief  Eunuch,  a  tall  x\frican  in  resplendent  costume, 
is  one  of  the  most  important  personages  connected  with  the 
Court.     The  Sultan's  favorite  dwarf,  a  little  man  about  forty 
years  old  and  three  feet  high,  bestrode  his  horse  with  as  conse- 
quential an  air  as  any  of  them.     A  few  years  ago,  this  man 
took  a  notion  to  marry,  and  applied  to  the  Sultan  for  a  wife. 
The  latter  gave  him  permission  to  go  into  his  harem  and  take 
the  one  whom  he  could  kiss.     The  dwarf,  like  all  short  men, 
was  ambitious  to  have  a  long  wife.    While  the  Sultan's  five  hun- 
dred women,  who  knew  the  terms  according  to  which  the  dwarf 
was  permitted  to  choose,  were  laughing  at  the  amorous  man- 
nikin,  he  went  up  to  one  of  the  tallest  and  handsomest  of  them, 
and  struck  her  a  sudden  blow  on  the  stomach.     She  collapsed 
with  the  pain,  and  before  she  could  recover  he  caught  her  by  the 
neck  and  gave  her  the  dreaded  kiss.    The  Sultan  kept  his  word, 
and  the  tall  beauty  is  now  the  motlier  of  the  dwarfs  children. 
The  procession  grows  more  brilliant  as  it  advances,  and  the 
profound  inclination  made  by  the  soldiers  at  the  further  end  of 
the  court,  announces  the  approach  of  the  Sultan  himself.    First 
come  three  led  horses,  of  the  noblest  Arabian  blood — gloricns 
creatures,  worthy  to  represent 

"  The  horse  that  guide  the  golden  eye  of  heaven, 
And  snort  the  morning  from  their  nostrils, 
Making  their  fiery  gait  above  the  glades." 


TOE    SULTAK.  337 

Their  eyes  were  more  keen  and  lustrous  than  the  diamonds 
which  studded  their  head-stalls,  and  the  wealth  of  emeralds, 
rubies,  and  sapphires  that  gleamed  on  their  trappings  would 
have  bought  the  possessions  of  a  German  Prince.  After  theiu 
came  the  Sultan's  body-guard,  a  company  of  tall,  strong  men, 
in  crimson  tunics  and  white  trousers,  with  lofty  plumes  of  pea- 
cock feathers  in  their  hats.  Some  of  them  carried  crests  of 
green  feathers,  fastened  ui)on  long  staves.  These  superb  horses 
and  showy  guards  are  the  only  relics  of  that  barbaric  pomp 
which  characterized  all  State  processions  during  the  time  of  tho 
Janissaries.  In  the  centre  of  a  hollow  square  of  plume-bearing 
guards  rode  Abdul-Medjid  himself,  on  a  snow-white  steed. 
Every  one  bowed  profoundly  as  he  passed  along,  but  he  neither 
looked  to  the  right  or  left,  nor  made  the  slightest  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  salutations.  Turkish  etiquette  exacts  the  most  rigid 
hidifference  on  the  part  of  the  Sovereign,  who,  on  all  public 
occasions,  never  makes  a  greeting.  Formerly,  before  the  change 
of  costume,  the  Sultan's  turbans  were  carried  before  him  in  the 
processions,  and  the  servants  who  bore  them  inclined  them  to  one 
side  and  the  other,  in  answer  to  the  salutations  of  the  crowd. 

Sultan  Abdul-Medjid  is  a  man  of  about  thirty,  though  he 
looks  older.  He  has  a  mild,  amiable,  weak  face,  dark  eyes,  a 
prominent  nose,  and  short,  dark  brown  mustaches  and  beard. 
His  face  is  thin,  and  wrinkles  are  already  making  their  appear- 
ance about  the  corners  of  his  mouth  and  eyes.  But  for  a  cer- 
tain vacancy  of  expression,  he  would  be  called  a  handsome 
Qian.  He  sits  on  his  horse  with  much  case  and  grace,  though 
'.here  is  a  slight  stoop  in  his  shoulders.  His  legs  are  crooked, 
owing  to  which  cause  he  appears  awkward  when  on  his  feet, 
though  he  wears  a  long  cloak  to  conceal  the  deformity.     Sen- 

15 


338  THE   Lands   of   the    saracex 

Bual  indulgence  has  weakened  a  coustitu'Jcn  not  naturally 
strong,  and  increased  that  mildness  which  lias  now  become  a 
defect  in  his  character.  He  is  not  stern  e"^ongh  to  be  just,  and 
his  subjects  are  less  fortunate  under  his  '  ,'sy  rule  than  un(?er 
the  rod  of  his  savage  father,  Mahmoud.  fie  was  dressed  in  a 
style  of  the  utmost  richness  and  elegaL'^e.  He  wore  a  red 
Turkish  fez,  with  an  immense  rosette  of  hrilliants,  and  a  long, 
floating  plume  of  bird-of-paradise  feathe  s.  The  diamond  ia 
the  centre  of  the  rosette  is  of  unusual  size ;  it  was  picked  up 
some  years  ago  in  the  Hippodrome,  and  probably  belonged  to 
the  treasury  of  the  Greek  Emperors.  The  breast  and  collar 
of  his  coat  were  one  mass  of  diamonds,  and  sparkled  in  ihf> 
early  sun  with  a  thousand  rainbow  gleams.  His  mantle  oi 
dark-blue  cloth  hung  to  his  knees,  concealing  the  deformity  of 
his  legs.  He  wore  white  pantaloons,  wb'.te  kid  gloves,  and 
patent  leather  boots,  thrust  into  his  goldrn  stirrups. 

A  few  officers  of  the  Imperial  householl  followed  behind  the 
Sultan,  and  the  procession  then  terminated.  Including  the 
soldiers,  it  contained  from  two  to  three  thousand  persons.  The 
marines  lined  the  way  to  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Achmed, 
and  a  groat  crowd  of  spectators  filled  up  the  streets  and  the 
square  of  the  Hippodrome.  Coffee  was  served  to  us,  after 
which  we  were  all  conducted  into  the  inner  court  of  the  Serag- 
lio, to  await  the  return  of  the  cortege.  This  court  is  not  more 
than  half  the  size  of  the  outer  one,  but  is  shaded  with  large 
sycamores,  embellished  with  fountains,  and  surrounded  with 
light  and  elegant  galleries,  in  pure  Saracenic  style.  The  pio 
ture  which  it  presented  was  therefore  far  richer  and  more 
characteristic  of  the  Orient  than  the  outer  court,  where  the 
architecture  is  almost  wholly  after  Italian  models.    The  portals 


TUE    SCLTAN    ON    HIS   THRO.VE.  339 

at  either  end  rested  on  slender  pillars,  over  which  projected 
broad  eaves,  decorated  with  elaborate  carved  and  gilded  work, 
and  above  all  rose  a  dome,  surmounted  by  the  Crescent.  On 
the  right,  the  tall  chimneys  of  the  Imperial  kitchens  towered 
above  the  walls.  Tlie  sycamores  tlirew  their  broad,  cooi 
Bhadows  over  the  court,  and  groups  of  servants,  in  gala  dresses, 
loitered  about  the  corridors. 

After  waiting  nearly  half  an  hour,  the  sound  of  music  and  the 
appearance  of  the  Sultan's  body-guard  proclaimed  the  return 
of  the  procession.  It  came  in  reversed  order,  headed  by  the 
Sultan,  after  whom  followed  the  Grand  Vizier  and  other  Minis- 
ters of  the  Imperial  Council,  and  the  Pashas,  each  surrounded 
by  his  staff  of  officers.  The  Sultan  dismounted  at  the  entranoe 
to  the  Seraglio,  and  disappeared  through  the  door.  He  was 
absDut  for  more  than  half  an  hour,  during  which  time  he 
received  the  congratulations  of  his  fiimily,  his  wives,  and  the 
principal  personages  of  his  household,  all  of  whom  came  to  kiss 
his  feet.  Meanwhile,  the  Pashas  ranged  themselves  in  a  semi- 
circle around  the  arched  and  gilded  portico.  The  servants  of 
the  Seraglio  brought  out  a  large  Persian  carpet,  which  they 
spread  on  the  marble  pavement.  The  throne,  a  large  square 
seal,  richly  carved  and  covered  with  gilding,  was  placed  in  the 
centre,  and  a  dazzling  piece  of  cloth-of-gold  thrown  over  the 
back  of  it.  Wiien  the  Sultan  re-appeared,  he  took  his  seat 
thereon,  placing  his  feet  on  a  small  footstool.  The  ceremony 
of  kissing  his  feet  now  commenced.  The  first  who  had  this 
honor  was  the  Chief  of  the  Emirs,  an  old  man  in  a  green  robe, 
embroidered  with  pearls.  lie  advanced  to  the  throne,  knelt, 
kissed  the  Sultan's  patent-leather  boot,  and  retired  backward 
from  the  presence. 


340  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

The  Ministers  and  Paslias  followed  in  single  file,  and,  after 
they  had  made  the  salutation,  took  their  stations  on  the  right 
hand  of  the  throne.  Most  of  them  were  fat,  and  their  glitter- 
ing frock-coats  were  buttoned  so  tightly  that  they  seemed  ready 
to  burst.  It  required  a  great  effort  for  them  to  rise  from  their 
knees.  During  all  this  time,  the  band  was  playing  operatic 
airs,  and  as  each  Pasha  knelt,  a  marshal,  or  master  of  ceremo- 
nies, with  a  silver  wand,  gave  the  signal  to  the  Imperial  Guard, 
who  shouted  at  the  top  of  their  voices  :  "  Prosperity  to  our 
Sovereign  I  May  he  live  a  thousand  years  I"  This  part  of  the 
ceremony  was  really  grand  and  imposing.  All  the  adjuncts 
were  in  keeping :  the  portico,  wrought  in  rich  arabesque 
designs  ;  the  swelling  domes  and  sunlit  crescents  above  ;  the 
sycamores  and  cypresses  shading  the  court ;  the  red  tunics  and 
peacock  plumes  of  the  guard  ;  the  monarch  himself,  radiant 
with  jewels,  as  he  sat  in  his  chair  of  gold — all  these  features 
combined  to  form  a  stately  picture  of  the  lost  Orient,  and  for 
the  time  Abdul-Medjid  seemed  the  true  representative  of 
Cali}'h  Haroun  Al-Raschid. 

After  the  Pashas  had  finished,  the  inferior  officers  of  the 
Army,  Navy,  and  Civil  Service  followed,  to  the  number  of  at 
least  a  thousand.  They  were  not  considered  worthy  to  touch 
the  Sultan's  person,  but  kissed  his  golden  scarf,  which  was  held 
out  to  them  by  a  Pasha,  who  stood  on  the  left  of  the  throne. 
Tht  Grand  Vizier  had  his  place  on  the  right,  and  the  Chief  of 
the  Eunuchs  stood  behind  him.  The  kissing  of  the  scarf  occu- 
pied an  hour.  The  Sultan  sat  quietly  during  al'  this  time,  his 
face  expressing  a  total  indifference  to  all  that  was  going  on. 
The  most  skilful  physiognomist  could  Lot  have  found  in  it  the 
shadow  of  an  expression.     If  this  was  the  etiquette  prescribed 


TEE    SHEKn    EI.-ISLAM.  341 

for   him,   he   certainly    acted   it   with   marvellous    siill    and 
success. 

The  long  line  of  officers  at  length  came  to  an  end,  and  1 
fancied  that  the  solemnities  were  now  over  ;  but  after  a  pauF^Q 
appeared  the  ^hdck  el-Mum,  or  High  Triest  of  the  MahometxiD 
religion.  His  autliority  in  religious  matters  transcends  tliat  of 
the  Sultan,  and  is  final  and  irrevocable.  He  was  a  very 
venerable  man,  of  perhaps  seventy-five  years  of  age,  and  his 
tottering  steps  were  supported  by  two  moUahs.  lie  was 
dressed  in  a  long  green  robe,  embroidered  with  gold  and  pearls, 
over  which  his  white  beard  flowed  below  his  waist.  In  hi." 
turban  of  white  cambric  was  twisted  a  scarf  of  cloth-of-gold, 
He  kissed  the  border  of  the  Sultan's  mantle,  which  salutation 
was  also  made  by  a  long  line  of  tlic  chief  priests  of  the  mosquea 
of  Constantinople,  wlio  followed  him.  These  priests  were 
dressed  in  long  robes  of  white,  green,  blue,  and  violet,  many 
of  them  with  collars  of  pearls  and  golden  scarfs  wound  al)0ut 
their  turbans,  the  rich  fringes  falling  on  their  shoulders.  They 
were  grave,  stately  men,  with  long  gray  beards,  and  the  wis- 
dom of  age  and  study  in  their  deep-set  eyes. 

Among  the  last  who  came  was  the  most  important  personage 
of  all.  This  was  the  Governor  of  Mecca  (as  I  believe  he  la 
called),  the  nearest  descendant  of  the  Prophet,  and  the  succes- 
sor to  the  Caliphate,  in  case  the  family  of  Othmaa  becomes 
extinct.  Sultan  Mahmoud,  on  his  accession  to  the  throne,  wa3 
the  last  descendant  of  Orchan,  the  founder  of  the  Ottoman 
Dynasty,  the  throne  being  inherited  only  by  the  male  heirs. 
He  left  two  sons,  who  are  both  living,  Abdul-Medjid  having 
departed  from  the  practice  of  his  predecessors,  each  of  whom 
.=il(;w  his  brothers,  in  order  to  make  his  own  sovereignty  secure 


342  TEE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

He  has  one  son,  Muzad,  who  is  about  ten  years  old,  so  that 
there  are  now  three  males  of  the  family  of  Orchan,  In  case 
of  their  death,  the  Governor  of  Mecca  would  become  Calipli^ 
and  the  sovereignty  would  be  established  in  his  family.  He  is 
a  swarthy  Arab,  of  about  fifty,  with  a  bold,  fierce  face.  He 
wore  a  superb  dress  of  green,  the  sacred  color,  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  his  two  sons,  young  men  of  twenty  and  twenty-two 
As  he  advanced  to  the  throne,  and  wa.s  about  to  kneel  and  kiss 
the  Sultan's  robe,  the  latter  prevented  him,  and  asked  politely 
after  his  health — the  highest  mark  of  respect  in  his  power  to 
show.  The  old  Arab's  face  gleamed  with  such  a  sudden  gush 
of  prido  and  satisfaction,  that  no  flash  of  lightning  could  have 
illumined  it  more  vividly. 

The  sacred  writers,  or  transcribers  of  the  Koran,  closed  the 
procession,  after  which  the  Sultan  rose  and  entered  the  Serag- 
lio. The  crowd  slowly  dispersed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
grand  reports  of  the  cannon  on  Seraglio  Point  announced  the 
departure  of  the  Sultan  for  his  palace  on  the  Bosphorus.  The 
festival  of  Bairaiii  was  now  fairly  inaugurated,  and  all  Stam- 
boul  was  given  up  to  festivity.  There  was  no  Turk  so  poor 
that  he  did  not  in  some  sort  share  in  the  rejoicing.  Our 
Fourth  could  scarcely  show  more  flags,  let  ofi"  more  big  guns 
or  send  forth  greater  crow  Is  of  excursionists  than  this  Moslem 
boiiday. 


SOJOURN    AT    CONSTANTINOPI-E.  343 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE     MOSQUES     OF     CONSTANTINOPLE. 

EciJouTC  at  Constantinople — Semi-European  Character  of  tfie  City — The  Mcque — Pro- 
curing a  Firraan— The  Seraglio— The  Library— Tlie  Ancient  Throne-Room— Admit- 
tance to  St.  Sophia — Magnificence  of  the  Interior — The  Marvellous  Dome — Th« 
Mosque  of  Sultan  Achmed— The  Suleraanye — Great  Conflagrations— Political  Mean- 
ing of  the  Fires— Turkish  Progi-ess — Decay  of  the  Ottoman  Power. 

"Is  that  indeed  Sophia's  far-famed  dome, 
Where  first  tlie  Faith  was  It-il  in  triumph  home, 
Like  some  higli  hrliie,  witli  banner  and  briglit  srpn, 
Aud  melody,  and  flowers?"  Aubrey  De  Verb 

CossTANTisoPLK,  Tuesdoy,  August  8, 1S52. 

The  length  of  my  stay  in  Constantinople  lias  enabled  me  to 
visit  many  interesting  spots  in  its  vicinity,  as  well  as  to  fami- 
liarize myself  with  the  peculiar  features  of  the  great  capital. 
I  have  seen  the  beautiful  Bosphorus  from  steamers  and  cai- 
ques ;  ridden  up  the  valley  of  Buyukdere,  and  through  the 
chestnut  woods  of  Belgrade  ;  bathed  in  the  Black  Sea,  under 
the  lee  of  the  Symplcgades,  where  the  marble  altar  to  Apollo 
still  invites  an  oblation  from  passing  mariners  ;  walked  over 
the  flowery  meadows  beside  the  "  Heavenly  Waters  of  Asia  ;'' 
galloped  around  the  ivy-grown  walls  where  Daiidolo  and  Maho- 
met II.  conquered,  and  the  last  of  the  Palffiologi  fell  ;  and 
dreamed  away  many  an  afternoon-hour  under  the  funereal 
cypresses  of  Pera,  and  beside  the  Delphian  tripod  in  the  Hip 


SH  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

podrome  The  historic  interest  of  tliese  spots  is  familiar  te 
all,  nor,  with  one  exception,  have  their  natural  beauties  been 
exaggerated  by  travellers.  This  exception  is  the  village  of 
Belgrade,  over  which  Mary  Montague  went  into  raptures,  and 
set  the  fashion  for  tourists  ever  since.  I  must  confess  to  having 
been  wofully  disappointed.  The  village  is  a  miserable  cluster 
of  rickety  houses,  on  an  open  piece  of  barren  land,  surrounded 
by  the  forests,  or  rather  tliickcts,  which  keep  alive  the  springs 
that  supply  Constantinople  with  water.  We  reached  there 
with  appetites  sharpened  by  our  morning's  ride,  expecting  to 
find  at  least  a  vender  of  kibahs  (bits  of  fried  meat)  in  so 
renowned  a  place  ;  but  the  only  things  to  be  had  were  raw  salt 
mackerel,  and  bread  which  belonged  to  the  primitive  geological 
formation. 

The  general  features  of  Constautinoi)lc  and  the  Bosphorua 
arc  so  well  known,  that  I  am  spared  the  dangerous  task  of 
painting  scenes  which  have  been  colored  by  abler  pencils.  You 
Hammer,  Lamartine,  Willis,  Miss  Pardee,  Albert  Smith,  and 
thou,  most  inimitable  Thackeray  1  have  made  Pera  and  Scutari, 
the  Bazaars  and  Batlis,  the  Seraglio  and  the  Golden  Horn,  as 
familiar  to  our  ears  as  Coruhill  and  Wall  street.  Besides, 
Constantinople  is  not  the  true  Orient,  which  is  to  be  found 
ratlier  in  Cairo,  in  Aleppo,  and  brightest  and  most  vital,  ia 
Damascus.  Here,  we  tread  European  soil  ;  the  Franks  are 
fast  crowding  out  the  followers  of  the  Prophet,  and  Stamboul 
itself,  were  its  mosques  and  Siiraglio  removed,  would  differ  littlo 
in  outward  appearance  from  a  third-rate  Italian  town.  The 
Sultan  lives  in  a  palace  with  a  Grecian  portico  ;  the  pointed 
Saracenic  arch,  the  arabesque  sculptures,  the  latticed  balconies, 
give  place  to  clumsy  imitations  of  Palladio,  and  every  fire  that 


THE    MOSQUE.  345 

BTveeps  away  a  recollection  of  the  palmy  times  of  Ottoman 
rule,  sweeps  it  away  forever. 

But  the  Mosque — that  blossom  of  Oriental  architecture, 
with  its  crowning  domes,  like  the  inverted  bells  of  the  lotus, 
Bud  its  recd-like  minarets,  its  fountains  and  marble  courts — can 
only  perish  with  the  faith  it  typifies.  I,  for  one,  rejoice  thai, 
so  long  as  the  religiou  of  Islam  exists  (and  yet,  may  its  time 
be  short !),  no  Christian  model  can  shape  its  houses  of  worship. 
The  minaret  must  still  lift  its  airy  tower  for  the  muezzin  ;  the 
dome  must  rise  like  a  gilded  heaven  above  the  prayers  of  the 
Faithful,  with  its  starry  lamps  and  emblazoned  phrases  ;  the 
fountain  must  continue  to  pour  its  waters  of  purification.  A 
reformation  of  the  Moslem  faith  is  impossible.  When  it  begins 
to  give  way,  the  whole  fabric  must  fall.  Its  ceremonies,  as 
well  as  its  creed,  rest  entirely  on  the  recognition  of  Mahomet 
as  the  Prophet  of  God.  However  the  Turks  may  change  in 
other  respects,  in  all  that  concerns  their  religion  they  must 
continue  the  same. 

Until  within  a  few  years,  a  visit  to  the  mosques,  especially 
the  more  sacred  ones  of  St.  Sophia  and  Sultan  Achmed,  wag 
attended  with  much  difficulty.  ^liss  Pardoe,  according  to  her 
own  account,  risked  her  life  in  order  to  sec  the  interior  of  St. 
Sophia,  which  she  efifectcd  in  the  disguise  of  a  Turkish  Effendi. 
I  accomphshed  the  same  thing,  a  few  days  since,  but  without 
recourse  to  any  such  romantic  expedient.  Mr.  Brown,  the 
interpreter  of  tlie  Legation,  procured  a  firman  from  the  Grand 
Vizier,  on  behalf  of  the  officers  of  the  San  Jacinto,  and  kindly 
invited  me,  with  several  other  American  and  English  travellers, 
to  joiu  the  party.  During  the  mouth  of  Ilamazan,  no  firman? 
are  given,  and  a.«  at  this  time  there  are  few  travellers  in  Cod- 

15 


&46  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

slantinople,  we  should  otherwise  have  been  subjected  to  a  heavji 
expense.  The  cost  of  a  firman,  including  backsheesh  to  the 
priests  and  doorkeepers,  is  700  piastres  (about  $33). 

We  crossed  the  Golden  Horn  in  caiques,  and  first  visited  tlie 
gardens  and  palaces  on  Seraglio  Point.  The  Sultan  at  preser.t 
resides  in  his  summer  palace  of  Beshiktashe,  on  the  Bosphorus, 
and  only  occupies  the  Serai  Boruou,  as  it  is  called,  during  the 
winter  months.  The  Seraglio  covers  the  extremity  of  the 
promontory  on  which  Constantinople  is  built,  and  is  nearly 
three  miles  in  circuit.  The  scattered  buildings  erected  by  dif- 
ferent Sultans  form  in  themselves  a  small  city,  whose  domes 
and  pointed  turrets  rise  from  amid  groves  of  cypress  and  pine 
The  sea-wall  is  lined  with  kiosks,  from  whose  cushioned  win- 
dows there  are  the  loveliest  views  of  the  European  and  Asian 
shores.  The  newer  portion  of  the  palace,  where  the  Sultan 
now  receives  the  ambassadors  of  foreign  nations,  shows  the 
influence  of  European  taste  in  its  plan  and  decorations.  It  ia 
by  no  means  remarkable  for  splendor,  and  suffers  by  contrast 
•with  many  of  the  private  houses  in  Damascus  and  Aleppo. 
The  building  is  of  wood,  the  walls  ornamented  with  detestable 
frescoes  by  modern  Greek  artists,  and  except  a  small  but 
splendid  collection  of  arms,  and  some  wonderful  specimens  of 
Arabic  chirography,  there  is  nothing  to  interest  the  visitor. 

In  ascending  to  the  ancient  Seraglio,  which  was  founded  by 
Mahomet  II.,  on  the  site  of  the  palace  of  the  Pal^ologi,  we 
passed  the  Column  of  Theodosius,  a  plain  Corinthian  shaft, 
about  fifty  feet  high.  The  Seraglio  is  now  occupied  entirely 
by  the  servants  and  guards,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  sliovvs  a 
neglect  amounting  almost  to  dilapidation.  The  Saracenic  cor- 
ridors surrounding  its  courts  are  supported  by  pillars  of  mar 


THE    SEKAGLIO.  341 

ble,  p:ranite,  and  porphyry,  the  i-poils  of  the  Christiaa  cipital 
We  were  allowed  to  walk  about  at  leisure,  and  inspect  the  dif 
ferent  compartments,  except  the  library,  which  unfortunatelji 
was  locked.  This  library  was  for  a  long  time  supposed  to 
contain  many  lost  treasures  of  ancient  literature — among  other 
things,  the  missing  booiis  of  I. ivy — but  the  recent  researches  of 
Logothetos,  the  Prince  of  Samos,  prove  that  there  is  little  of 
value  among  its  manuscripts.  Before  the  door  hangs  a  wooden 
globe,  which  is  supposed  to  be  efficacious  in  neutralizing  the 
influence  of  the  Evil  Eye.  There  are  many  ancient  altars  and 
fragments  of  pillars  scattered  about  the  courts,  and  the  Turka 
have  even  commenced  making  a  collection  of  antiquities,  which, 
with  the  exception  of  two  immense  sarcophagi  of  red  porphyry, 
contains  nothing  of  value.  They  show,  however,  one  of  the 
brazen  heads  of  the  Delphian  tripod  in  the  nipi)odrome,  which, 
they  say,  Mahomet  the  Conqueror  struck  off  with  a  single  blow 
af  his  sword,  on  entering  Constantinople. 

The  most  interesting  portion  of  the  Seraglio  is  the  ancient 
throne-room,  now  no  longer  used,  but  still  guarded  by  a  com- 
pany of  white  eunuchs.  The  throne  is  an  immense,  heavy 
bedstead,  the  posts  of  which  are  thickly  incrusted  with  rubies, 
turquoises,  emeralds,  and  sapphires.  There  is  a  funnel-shaped 
chimney-piece  in  the  room,  a  master-work  of  Benevenuto  Cel- 
lini. There,  half  a  century  ago,  the  foreign  ambassadors 
were  presented,  after  having  been  bathed,  fed,  and  clothed  with 
a  rich  mantle  in  the  outer  apartments.  They  were  ushered 
into  the  imperial  presence,  supported  by  a  Turkish  official  ou 
either  side,  in  order  that  they  niiglit  show  no  signs  of  breaking 
down  under  the  load  of  awe  and  reverence  they  were  supposed 
to  feel.     lu  the  outer  Court,  adjoining  the  Sublime  Pcrte,  ia 


348  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

the  Chapel  of  the  Empress  Irene,  now  converted  icto  en 
armory,  which,  for  its  size,  is  the  most  tasteful  and  picturesque 
collection  of  weapons  I  have  ever  seen.  It  is  especially  rich  in 
Saracenic  armor,  and  contains  many  superb  casques  of  inlaid 
gold.  In  a  large  glass  case  iu  the  :hancel,  one  sees  the  key? 
of  some  thirty  or  forty  cities,  with  the  date  of  their  capture. 
It  is  not  likely  that  another  will  ever  be  added  to  the  list 

We  now  passed  out  through  the  Sul)Iime  Porte,  and  direct- 
ed our  steps  to  the  famous  Aya  Sophia — the  temple  dedicated 
by  Justinian  to  the  Divine  Wisdom.  The  repairs  made  to  the 
outer  walls  by  the  Turks,  and  the  addition  of  the  four  mina- 
rets, have  entirely  changed  the  character  of  the  building,  with- 
out injuring  its  effect.  As  a  Christian  Church,  it  must  have 
been  less  imposing  than  in  its  present  form.  A  priest  met  us  at 
the  entrance,  and  after  reading  the  firman  with  a  very  discon- 
tented face,  informed  us  that  we  could  not  enter  until  the  mid- 
day prayers  were  concluded.  After  taking  off  our  shoes,  how- 
ever, we  were  allowed  to  ascend  to  the  galleries,  whence  we 
looked  down  on  the  bowing  worshippers.  Here  the  majesty 
of  the  renowned  edifice,  despoiled  as  it  now  is,  bursts  at  once 
upon  the  eye.  The  wonderful  flat  dome,  glittering  with  its 
golden  mosaics,  and  the  sacred  phrase  from  the  Koran  :  God 
is  the  Light  of  the  IIeax:ens  and  the  Earth,^^  swims  in  the  air, 
one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  above  the  marble  pavement.  On 
the  eastern  and  western  sides,  it  rests  on  two  half  domes^ 
which  again  rise  from  or  rest  upon  a  group  of  three  small  half- 
domes,  so  that  the  entire  roof  of  the  mosque,  unsupported  by  a 
pillar,  ^eenis  to  have  been  dropped  from  above  on  the  walls, 
rather  than  to  have  been  built  up  from  them.  Around  the 
edifice  run  an  upper  and  a  lower  gallery,  which  alone  preserve 


THE    MOSQUE    OF    ST.   SOPHU.  319 

the  peculiar.ties  of  the  Byzantine  style.  These  galleries  ar** 
BUj)porto(l  by  the  most  precious  columns  which  ancient  art 
could  afford  :  among  them  eight  shafts  of  green  marble,  from 
the  Temple  of  Diana,  at  Ephesus  ;  eight  of  pori^hyry,  from  tlio 
Temple  of  the  Sun,  at  Baalbek  ;  besides  Egyjjtian  granite  from 
the  shrines  of  Isis  and  Osiris,  and  Fentelican  marble  from  the 
sanctuary  of  Pallas  Athena.  Almost  the  whole  of  the  inte- 
rior has  been  covered  with  gilding,  but  time  has  softened  its 
brilliancy,  and  the  rich,  subdued  gleam  of  the  walls  is  in  per- 
fect harmony  with  the  varied  coloring  of  the  ancient  marbles. 

Under  the  dome,  four  Christian  seraphim,  executed  in 
mosaic,  have  been  allowed  to  remain,  but  the  names  of  the  four 
archangels  of  the  Moslem  faith  are  inscribed  underneath. 
The  bronze  doors  are  still  the  same,  the  Turks  having  taken 
great  pains  to  obliterate  the  crosses  with  which  they  were 
adorned.  Around  the  centre  of  the  dome,  as  on  that  of  Sul- 
tan Achmed,  may  be  read,  in  golden  letters,  and  in  all  the 
intricacy  of  Arabic  penmanship,  the  beautiful  "erse  : — "  God 
is  the  Ligiit  of  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth,  liis  wisdom  is 
a  light  on  the  wall,  in  which  burns  a  lamp  covered  with  glass. 
The  glass  shines  like  a  star,  the  lamp  is  lit  with  the  oil  of  a 
blessed  tree.  No  p]astern,  no  Westeru  oil,  it  shines  for  who- 
ever wills."  After  the  prayers  were  over,  and  we  had  descend- 
ed to  the  floor  of  the  mosque,  I  spent  the  rest  of  my  time 
under  the  dome,  fascinated  by  its  marvellous  lightness  and 
beauty.  Tlie  worshippers  jireseut  looked  at  us  with  curiosity, 
but  without  ill-will ;  and  before  we  left,  one  of  the  priests  came 
Blyly  with  some  fragments  of  the  ancient  gilded  mosaic,  which 
he  was  heathen  enough  to  sell,  and  we  to  buy. 

From  St.  Sophia  we  went  to  Sultan  Achmed,  which  facej 


350  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SAKACEJ; 

the  Hippodrome,  and  is  one  of  the  stateliest  p  les  of  Constantl 
oople.  It  is  avowedly  an  imitation  of  St.  Sophia,  and  the 
Turks  consider  it  a  more  wonderful  work,  because  the  dome  U 
Bcven  feet  higher.  It  has  six  minarets,  exceeding  in  this 
respect  all  the  mosques  of  Asia.  The  dome  rests  on  four 
immense  pillars,  the  bulk  of  which  quite  oppresses  the  light 
galleries  running  around  the  walls.  This,  and  the  uniform 
white  color  of  the  interior,  impairs  the  effect  which  its  bold 
style  and  imposing  dimensions  would  otherwise  produce.  The 
outside  view,  with  the  group  of  domes  swelling  grandly  above 
the  rows  of  broad-armed  sycamores,  is  much  more  satisfactory. 
In  the  tomb  of  Sultan  Achmed,  in  one  corner  of  the  court,  we 
saw  his  coffin,  turban,  sword,  and  jewelled  harness.  I  had 
just  been  reading  old  Sandys'  account  of  his  visit  to  Constan- 
tinople, in  1610,  during  this  Sultan's  reign,  and  could  only 
think  of  him  as  Sandys  represents  him,  in  the  title-page  to  his 
book,  as  a  fat  man,  with  bloated  cheeks,  in  a  long  gown  and  big 
turban,  and  the  words  underneath  : — "  Achmed,  sive  2'yr annus." 
The  other  noted  mosques  of  Constantinople  are  ih^  Yeii 
Djavii,  or  Mosque  of  the  Sultana  Valide,  on  the  shore  of  the 
Golden  Horn,  at  the  eud  of  the  bridge  to  Galata  ;  that  of 
Sultan  Bajazet  ;  of  Mahomet  II.,  the  Conqueror,  and  of  his 
son,  Suleyraan  the  Magnificent,  whose  superb  mosque  well 
deserves  this  title.  I  regret  exceedingly  that  our  time  did  not 
allow  us  to  view  the  interior,  for  outwardly  it  not  only  sur- 
passes St  Sophia,  and  all  other  mosques  in  the  city,  but  is 
undoubtedly  one  of  tlie  purest  specimens  of  Oriental  architecture 
extant.  It  stands  on  a  broad  terrace,  on  one  of  the  seven  hills 
of  Stamboul.  and  its  exquisitely  proportioned  domes  and  minar 
rets  shiue  as  if  crystalized  ir  the  blue  of  the  air.     It  is  a  typa 


ORIENTAL    ART.  351 

of  Oriental,  as  the  Parthenon  is  of  Grecian,  ar.d  the  Cobgno 
Cathedral  of  Gothic  art.  As  I  saw  it  the  other  night,  lit  b^ 
the  flames  of  a  conflagration,  standing  out  red  and  clear  against 
the  darkness,  I  felt  inclined  to  place  it  on  a  level  with  either 
of  those  renowned  structures.  It  is  a  product  of  the  rich 
fancy  of  the  East,  splendidly  ornate,  and  not  without  a  high 
degree  of  symmetry — yet  here  the  symmetry  is  that  of  orna- 
ment alone,  and  not  the  pure,  absolute  proportion  of  forms 
which  we  find  in  Grecian  Art.  It  requires  a  certain  d«'gree  of 
enthusiasm — nay,  a  slight  inebriation  of  the  imaginative  facul- 
ties— in  order  to  feel  the  sentiment  of  this  Oriental  Architec- 
ture. If  I  rightly  express  all  that  it  says  to  rac,  I  touch  the 
verge  of  rapsody.  The  East,  in  almost  all  its  aspects,  is  so 
essentially  poetic,  that  a  true  picture  of  it  must  be  poetic  in 
spirit,  if  not  in  form. 

Constantinople  has  been  terribly  ravaged  by  fires,  no  less 
than  fifteen  having  occurred  during  the  past  two  weeks 
Almost  every  night  the  sky  has  been  reddened  by  burning 
houses,  and  the  minarets  of  the  seven  hills  lighted  with  an 
illumination  brighter  than  that  of  the  Bairam.  All  the  space 
from  the  Hippodrome  to  the  Sea  of  Marmora  has  been  swept 
away  ;  the  lard,  honey,  and  oil  magazines  on  the  Golden  Horn, 
with  the  bazaars  adjoining  ;  several  large  blocks  on  the  hill  of 
Qalata,  with  the  College  of  the  Dancing  Dervishes  ;  a  part  of 
Scutari,  and  the  College  of  the  Howling  Dervishes,  all  have 
disappeared  ;  and  to-day,  the  ruins  of  3,700  houses,  which  were 
destroyed  last  night,  stand  smoking  in  the  Greek  quarter, 
behind  the  aqueduct  of  Yalens.  The  entire  amount  of  build- 
ings consumed  in  these  two  weeks  is  estimated  at  between _^re 
and  six  thousand  !    The  fire  or  the  hill  of  Galaia  threatened  to 


353  THE  LAXDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

destroy  a  great  part  of  the  suburb  of  Pera.  It  came,  sweep 
incT  over  the  brow  of  the  hill,  towards  my  hotel,  turning  tLi 
tall  cypresses  in  the  burial  ground  into  shafts  of  angry  tlarae, 
and  eating  away  the  crackling  dwellings  of  hordes  of  hapless 
1  urks.  I  was  in  bed,  from  a  sudden  attack  of  fever,  but  seeing 
the  other  guests  packing  up  their  effects  and  preparing  tc 
leave,  I  was  obliged  to  do  the  same  ;  and  this,  la  my  weak 
state,  brought  on  such  a  perspiration  that  the  ailment  left  me 
The  officers  of  the  United  States  steamer  San  Jacinto,  and 
the  French  frigate  Charlemagne,  came  to  the  rescue  with  their 
men  and  fire-engines,  and  the  flames  were  finally  quelled.  The 
proceedings  of  the  Americans,  who  cut  holes  in  the  roofs  and 
played  through  them  upon  the  fires  within,  were  watched  by 
the  Turks  with  stupid  amazement.  "  Mashallah  !"  said  a  fat 
Bimbashi,  as  he  stood  sweltering  in  the  heat ;  "  The  Franks 
ure  a  wonderful  people." 

To  those  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  Turkish  politics, 
these  fires  are  more  than  accidental  ;  they  have  a  most  weighty 
significance.  Tliey  indicate  either  a  general  discontent  with 
the  existing  state  of  afi"airs,  or  else  a  powerful  plot  against  the 
Sultan  and  his  Ministry.  Setting  fire  to  houses  is,  in  fact,  the 
Turkish  method  of  holding  an  "  indignation  meeting,"  and  from 
the  rate  with  which  they  are  increasing,  the  political  crisis 
must  be  near  at  hand.  The  Sultan,  with  his  usual  kindness  of 
heart,  has  sent  large  quantities  of  tents  and  other  supplies  to 
the  guiltless  sufferers  ;  but  no  amount  of  kindness  can  soften 
the  rancor  of  these  Turkish  intrigues.  Rescind  Pa^^ha,  the 
present  Grand  Vizier,  and  the  leader  of  the  party  of  Progress, 
is  the  person  against  whom  this  storm  of  opposition  ia  novt 
gathering. 


DECAY    OF    THE    OTTOMAN    POWER.  353 

Ir.  spite  of  all  efforts,  the  Ottoman  Power  is  rapidly  wasting 
away.  The  life  of  the  Orient  is  nerveless  and  effete  ;  the 
native  strength  of  the  race  has  died  out,  and  all  attempts  to 
resuscitate  it  by  the  adoption  of  European  institutions  produ"e 
mere  galvanic  spasms,  which  leave  it  more  exhausted  than 
before.  The  rosy-colored  accounts  we  have  had  of  Turkish 
Progress  arc  for  the  most  part  mere  delusions.  The  Sultan  is 
a  well-meaning  but  weak  man,  and  tyrannical  through  his  very 
weakness.  Had  lie  strengtli  enough  to  break  through  the 
meshes  of  falsehood  and  venality  which  are  woven  so  close 
about  him,  he  might  accomplish  some  solid  good.  But  Turkish 
rule,  from  his  ministers  down  to  the  lowest  cadi,  is  a  monstrous 
system  of  dceit  and  corruption.  These  peojjle  have  not  the 
most  remote  conception  of  the  true  aims  of  government  ;  tlicy 
only  seek  to  enrich  themselves  and  their  parasites,  at  the 
expense  of  the  people  and  the  national  treasury.  When  we 
add  to  this  the  conscrijjt  system,  which  is  draining  the  pro- 
vinces of  their  best  Mcslcni  subjects,  to  the  advantage  of  the 
Christians  and  Jews,  and  the  blindness  of  the  Revenue  Laws, 
which  impose  on  domestic  manufactures  double  the  duty  levied 
on  foreign  products,  it  will  easily  be  foreseen  that  the  next 
half-century,  or  less,  will  completely  drain  the  Turkish  Empire 
of  its  last  lingering  energies. 

Already,  in  effect,  Turkey  exists  only  through  the  jealousy 
of  the  European  nations.  The  treaty  of  Unkiar-iskelessi,  in 
1833,  threw  her  into  the  hands  of  Russia,  although  the  influ 
ence  of  England  has  of  late  years  reigned  almost  exclusively 
ill  her  councils.  Tliese  are  the  two  powers  who  are  lowering 
lit  each  other  with  sleepless  eyes,  in  the  Dardanelles  and  the 
Rosphorus.     The  people,  and  most  probably  the  government, 


36 1  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

is  strongly  preposessed  in  favor  of  the  English  ;  but  tne  E.us 
sian  Bear  has  a  heavy  paw,  and  when  he  puts  it  into  the  scale, 
all  other  weights  kick  the  beam.  It  will  be  a  long  and  wary 
struggle,  and  no  man  can  jirophecy  the  result.  The  Turks  are 
a  people  easy  to  govern,  were  even  the  imperfect  laws,  now  in 
existence,  fairly  administered.  They  would  thrive  and  improve 
ander  a  bettor  state  of  things  ;  but  I  cannot  avoid  the  convic- 
tion Ihat  tlie  regeneration  of  the  East  will  never  be  effected  at 
their  hands. 


KMBARCATION  8oi 


CHArTER    XXIX. 

FAREWELL     TO     THE     ORIENT MALTA. 

£D:iar.<»t  )n — Farewell  to  the  Orient — Leaving  Constantinople — A  Wreiik — The  Dar. 
daneiles— Ilonieiic  Scenery — Smyrna  Revisited — The  Grecian  Isles — Voyage  toMalt« 
—Detention— La  Valetta— The  Maltese— The  Climate— A  Boat  for  Sicily. 

"  Farewell,  ye  mountains, 

lly  glnry  croniied  • 
Ye  sacrt-d  fnuiitainii 

Of  Gods  renowned  ; 
Ye  woods  and  highlands, 

Where  lieroes  dwell ; 
Ye  seas  and  islands, 

Farewell  1  Farewell  1"  FBirmOF's  Saoa. 

In  THE  Dardanelles,  Saturday,  AuguM  7, 1852. 

At  last,  behold  me  fairly  embarked  for  Christian  Europe,  tc 
which  I  bade  adieu  in  October  last,  eager  for  the  unknown 
wonders  of  the  Orient.  Since  then,  nearly  ten  months  have 
passed  away,  and  those  wonders  are  now  familiar  as  every-day 
experiences.  I  set  out,  determined  to  be  satisfied  with  no 
slight  taste  of  Eastern  life,  but  to  drain  to  the  bottom  its 
beaker  of  mingled  sunshine  and  sleep.  All  tliis  has  been 
accomplished  ;  and  if  I  have  not  wandered  so  far,  nor  enriched 
myself  with  such  varied  knowledge  of  the  relics  of  ancient 
history,  as  I  might  have  jnirposed  or  wislied,  I  have  at  least 
learned  to  know  the  Turk  and  tlie  Aral),  been  soothed  by  the 
patience  inspired  by  their  fatalism,  and  warmed  by  the  gorge- 
0113  gleams  of  fancy  that  animate  their  poetry  and  religioa 


356  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEX. 

These  ten  months  of  my  life  form  an  episode  which  seems  to 
belong  to  a  separate  existence.  Just  refined  enough  to  be 
poetic,  and  just  barbaric  enough  to  be  freed  from  all  conven 
tioi.al  fetters,  it  is  as  grateful  to  brain  and  soul,  as  an  Eastern 
bath  to  the  body.  While  I  look  forward,  not  without  pleasure, 
to  the  luxuries  and  conveniences  of  Europe,  I  relinquish  with  a 
Bigh  the  refreshing  indolence  of  Asia. 

We  have  passed  between  the  Castles  of  the  two  ContinentSj 
guarding  the  mouth  of  the  Dardanelles,  and  are  now  entering 
the  Grecian  Sea.  To-morrow,  we  shall  touch,  for  a  few 
hours,  at  Smyrna,  and  then  turn  westward,  on  the  track  of 
Ulysses  and  St,  Paul.  Farewell,  then,  perhaps  forever,  to  the 
bright  Orient  1  Farewell  to  the  gay  gardens,  the  spicy  bazaars, 
to  the  plash  of  fountains  and  the  gleam  of  golden-tipped  mina- 
rets !  Farewell  to  the  perfect  morns,  the  balmy  twilights,  the 
still  heat  of  the  blue  noons,  the  splendor  of  moon  and  stars  I 
Farewell  to  the  glare  of  the  white  crags,  the  tawny  wastes  of 
dead  sand,  the  valleys  of  oleander,  the  hills  of  myrtle  and 
epices  !  Farewell  to  the  bath,  agent  of  purity  and  peace,  and 
parent  of  delicious  dreams — to  the  shebook,  whose  fragrant 
fumes  are  breathed  from  the  lips  of  patience  and  contentment 
— to  the  narghileh,  crowned  with  that  blessed  plant  which 
grows  in  the  gardens  of  Shiraz,  while  a  fountain  more  delight- 
ful than  those  of  Samarcand  bubbles  in  its  crystal  bosom  ! 
Farewell  to  the  red  cap  and  slippers,  to  the  big  turban,  the 
flowing  trousers,  and  the  gaudy  shawl — to  squatting  on  broad 
divans,  to  sipping  black  coffee  in  acorn  cups,  to  grave  faces  and 
%alaa7n  aklkooms,  and  touching  of  the  lips  and  forehead  !  Fare* 
well  to  the  evening  meal  in  the  tent  door,  to  the  couch  on  the 
frieudly  earth,  to  the  yells  of  the  muleteers,  to  the  deliberate 


XnE    SEA    OF   MARMORA,  351 

marches  of  the  plodding  horse,  and  the  endless  rocking  of  the 
dromedary  that  knoweth  his  master  !  Farewell,  finally,  tc 
annoyance  without  anger  delay  without  vexation,  indolence 
without  ennui,  endurance  without  fatigue,  appetite  without 
iutemperauce,  enjoyment  without  pall  1 

La  Valktta,  BIalta,  Saturday,  August  14, 1S62, 

My  last  view  of  Stamboul  was  that  of  the  mosques  of  St 
Sophia  and  Sultan  Achmed,  shining  faintly  in  the  moonlight, 
as  we  steamed  down  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  The  Caire  left  at 
nine  o'clock,  freighted  with  the  news  of  Reschid  Pasha's 
deposition,  and  there  were  no  signs  of  conflagration  in  all  the 
long  miles  of  the  city  that  lay  behind  us.  So  we  speculated 
110  more  on  the  exciting  topics  of  the  day,  but  went  below  and 
took  a  vapor  bath  in  our  berths  ;  for  I  need  not  assure  you 
that  the  nights  on  the  Mediterranean  at  this  season  are  any- 
thing but  chilly.  And  here  I  must  note  the  fact,  that  the 
French  steamers,  while  dearer  than  the  Austrian,  are  more 
cramped  in  their  accommodations,  and  filled  with  a  set  of  most 
uncivil  servants.  The  table  is  good,  and  this  is  the  only  thing 
to  be  commended.  In  all  other  respects,  I  prefer  the  Lloyd 
vessels. 

Early  next  morning,  we  passed  the  promontory  of  Cyzicus, 
and  the  Island  of  ^larmora,  the  marble  quarries  of  which  givo 
name  to  the  sea.  As  we  were  approaching  the  entrance  to  the 
Dardanelk'S,  we  noticed  an  Austrian  brig  drifting  in  the  cur- 
rent, the  whiff  of  her  flag  indicating  distress.  Iler  rudder  was 
entirely  gone,  and  she  was  floating  helplessly  towards  the  Thra- 
ciaa  coast.  A  boat  was  immediately  lowered  and  a  hawser 
sariied  to  her  bows,  by  which  we  towed  her  a  short  distauce  j 


358  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

but  onr  steam  engine  did  not  like  this  drudgery,  and  snapped 
the  rope  repeatedly,  so  that  at  last  we  were  obliged  to  leave 
her  to  her  fate.  The  lift  we  gave,  however,  had  its  effect,  and 
by  dexterous  manceuvering  with  the  sails,  the  captain  brought 
her  safely  into  the  harbor  of  Gallipoli,  where  she  dropped 
anchor  beside  us. 

Beyond  Gallipoli,  the  Dardanelles  contract,  and  the  opposing 
continents  rise  into  lofty  and  barren  hills.  In  point  of  natural 
beauty,  this  strait  is  greatly  inferior  to  the  Bosphorus.  It 
lacks  the  streams  and  wooded  valleys  which  open  upon  the 
latter.  The  country  is  but  partially  cultivated,  except  around 
the  town  of  Dardanelles,  near  the  mouth  of  the  strait.  The 
site  of  the  bridge  of  Xerxes  is  easily  recognized,  the  conforma- 
tion of  the  different  shores  seconding  the  decision  of  anti- 
quarians. Here,  too,  are  Sestos  and  Abydos,  of  passionate 
and  poetic  memory.  But  as  the  sun  dipped  towards  the  sea, 
we  passed  out  of  the  narrow  gateway.  On  our  left  lay  the 
plain  of  Troy,  backed  by  the  blue  range  of  Mount  Ida.  The 
tumulus  of  Patroclus  crowned  a  low  bluff  looking  on  the  sea. 
On  the  right  appeared  the  long,  irregular  island  of  Imbros, 
and  the  peaks  of  misty  Samothrace  over  and  beyond  it.  Tene- 
dos  was  before  us.  The  red  flush  of  sunset  tinged  the  grand 
Homeric  landscape,  and  lingered  and  lingered  on  the  summit 
of  Ida,  as  if  loth  to  depart.  I  paced  the  deck  until  long  after 
it  was  too  dark  to  distinguish  it  any  more. 

The  next  morning  we  dropped  anchor  in  the  harbor  of 
Smyrna,  where  we  remained  five  hours.  I  engaged  a  donkey, 
and  rode  out  to  the  Caravan  Bridge,  where  the  Greek  drivel 
and  I  smoked  narghilehs  and  drank  coffee  in  the  sliade  of  th< 
aca<;ias.     I  contrasted  my  impressions  with  those  of  my  first 


SMYRNA    REVISITED.  859 

visit  to  Smyrna  last  October — my  first  glimpse  of  Oriental 
ground.  Then,  every  dog  barked  at  me,  and  all  the  horde  of 
human  creatures  who  prey  upon  innocent  travellers  ran  at  my 
heels,  but  now,  with  my  brown  face  and  Turkish  aspect  of 
grave  indifference,  I  was  suffered  to  pass  as  quietly  as  my 
donkey-driver  himself.  Nor  did  the  latter,  nor  the  ready 
cafidji,  who  filled  our  pipes  on  the  banks  of  the  Meles,  attempt 
to  overcharge  me — a  sure  sign  that  the  Orient  had  left  its  seal 
on  ray  face.  Returning  through  the  city,  the  same  mishap 
befel  me  which  travellers  usually  experience  on  their  first 
arrival.  My  donkey,  while  dashing  at  full  speed  through  a 
crowd  of  Smyrniotes  in  their  Sunday  dresses,  slipped  up  iu  a 
little  pool  of  black  mud,  and  came  down  with  a  crash.  I  flew 
over  his  head  and  alighted  firmly  on  my  feet,  but  the  spruce 
young  Greeks,  whose  snowy  fnstanelles  were  terribly  bespat 
tered,  came  off  much  worse.  The  donkey  shied  back,  levelled 
his  ears  and  twisted  his  head  on  one  side,  awaiting  a  beating, 
but  his  bleeding  legs  saved  him. 

We  left  at  two  o'clock,  touched  at  Scio  in  the  evening,  and 
the  next  morning  at  sunrise  lay-to  in  the  harbor  of  Syra.  The 
Piraeus  was  only  twelve  hours  distant  ;  but  after  my  visitation 
of  fever  in  Constantinople,  I  feared  to  encounter  the  pestilen- 
tial summer  heats  of  Athens.  Besides,  I  had  reasons  for 
hastening  with  all  speed  to  Italy  and  Germany.  At  ten 
o'clock  we  weighed  anchor  again  and  steered  southwards, 
between  the  groups  of  the  Cyciades,  under  a  cloudless  sky  and 
aver  a  sea  of  the  brightest  blue.  The  days  were  endurable  under 
the  canvas  awning  of  our  quarter-deck,  but  the  nights  in  our 
berths  were  sweat-baths,  which  left  us  so  limp  and  exhausted 
^jhat  we  were  almost  fii  to  vanish,  like  ghosts,  at  daybreak. 


86G  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     S IRACEN. 

Our  last  glimpse  of  theMorea — Cape  Matapan — faded  a  tray 
in  the  moonlight,  and  for  two  days  we  travelled  westward  ovei 
tlie  burning  sea.  On  the  evening  of  the  lltli,  the  long,  low 
outline  of  Malta  rose  gradually  against  the  last  flush  of  sunset, 
and  in  two  hours  thereafter,  we  came  to  anchor  in  Quarantine 
Harbor.  The  quarantine  for  travellers  returning  from  the 
East,  which  formerly  varied  from  fourteen  to  twenty-one  days, 
is  now  reduced  to  one  day  for  those  arriving  from  Greece  or 
Turkey,  and  three  days  for  those  from  Egypt  and  Syria.  In 
our  case,  it  was  reduced  to  sixteen  hours,  by  an  official 
courtesy.  I  had  intended  proceeding  directly  to  Naples;  but  by 
the  contemptible  trickery  of  the  agents  of  the  French  steamers 
— a  long  history,  which  it  is  unnecessay  to  recapitulate — am  left 
here  to  wait  ten  days  for  another  steamer.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  there  are  six  other  travellers  at  the  same  hotel,  some 
coming  from  Constantinople,  and  some  from  Alexandria,  in  the 
same  predicament.  Because  a  single  ticket  to  Naples  costs 
Bome  thirty  or  forty  francs  less  than  by  dividing  the  trip 
into  two  parts,'  the  agents  in  those  cities  refuse  to  give  tickets 
further  than  Malta  to  those  who  are  not  keen  enough  to  see 
through  the  deception.  I  made  every  effort  to  obtain  a  second 
ticket  in  time  to  leave  by  the  branch  steamer  for  Italy,  but  in 
vain. 

La  Valetta  is,  to  my  eyes,  the  most  beautiful  small  city  in  the 
world.  It  is  a  jewel  of  a  place;  not  a  street  but  is  full  of  pictu 
resque  effects,  and  all  the  look-outs,  which  you  catch  at  every 
turn,  let  your  eyes  rest  either  upon  one  of  the  beautiful  harbora 
on  each  side,  or  the  distant  horizon  of  the  sea.  The  streets  are 
BO  clean  that  you  might  eat  your  dinner  oif  the  pavement ;  the 
wWte  balconies  and  cornices  of  the  houses,  all  cleanly  cut  Id  the 


LA    VALETTA.  361 

Boft  Maltese  stone,  stand  out  in  intense  relief  against  the  sky, 
and  from  the  manifold  refleetions  and  counter  rellections,  tlio 
shadows  (where  there  arc  any)  become  a  sort  of  milder  light. 
The  steep  sides  of  the  promontory,  on  which  the  city  is  built, 
arc  turned  into  staircases,  and  it  is  an  inexhaustible  pastime  to 
watch  the  groups,  composed  of  all  nations  who  inhabit  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  ascending  and  descending.  The 
Aub^rges  of  the  old  Knights,  the  Palace  of  the  Grand  Master, 
the  Church  of  St.  John,  and  other  relics  of  past  time,  but  more 
especially  the  fortifications,  invest  the  place  with  a  romantic 
interest,  and  I  suspect  that,  after  Venice  and  Granada,  there 
are  few  cities  where  the  Middle  Ages  have  left  more  impressive 
traces  of  their  history. 

The  Maltese  are  contented,  and  appear  to  thrive  under  the 
English  administration.  They  arc  a  peculiar  people,  reminding 
me  of  the  Arab  even  more  than  the  Italian,  while  a  certain 
rudeness  in  their  build  and  motions  suggests  their  Punic  ances- 
try. Their  language  is  a  curious  compound  of  Arabic  and 
Italian,  the  former  being  the  basis.  I  find  that  I  can  under- 
stand more  than  half  that  is  said,  the  Arabic  terminations  being 
a])plied  to  Italian  words.  I  believe  it  has  never  been  success- 
niHy  reduced  to  writing,  and  the  restoration  of  pure  Arabi: 
has  been  proposed,  with  much  reason,  as  preferable  to  an  at- 
tempt to  improve  or  refine  it.  Italian  is  the  language  used  in 
the  courts  of  justice  and  polite  society,  and  is  spoken  here  with 
much  more  purity  than  either  in  Naples  or  Sicily. 

The  heat  has  been  so  great  since  I  landed  that  I  have  not 
ventured  outside  of  the  city,  except  last  evening  to  an  ama- 
teur theatre,  got  up  by  the  non-commissioned  officers  and  pri« 
vates  in  the  garrison.     The  performances  wore  quite  tolerable, 

16 


862  THE     LANDS     OF    THK     SARACEN. 

except  a  love-sick  yonng  damsel  who  spoke  with  a  rough  mascu* 
line  voice,  and  made  long-  strides  across  the  stage  when  she  rushed 
into  her  lover's  arras.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  exhaust 
ing  character  of  the  heat.  The  thermometer  shows  90°  by  day, 
and  80°  to  85°  by  night — a  much  lower  temperature  than  I 
have  found  quite  comfortable  in  Africa  and  Syria.  In  tlie 
Desert  100°  in  the  shade  is  rather  bracing  than  otherwise  ; 
here,  90°  renders  all  exercise,  more  severe  than  smoking  a  pipe, 
impossible.  Even  in  a  state  of  complete  inertia,  a  shirt-collar 
will  fall  starchless  in  five  minutes. 

Rather  than  waste  eight  more  days  in  this  glimmering  half- 
existence,  I  have  taken  passage  in  a  Maltese  speronara,  which 
sails  this  evening  for  Catania,  in  Sicily,  where  the  grand  festi- 
val of  St.  Agatha,  which  takes  place  once  in  a  hundred  years, 
will  be  celebrated  next  week.  The  trip  promises  a  new  expe- 
rience, and  I  shall  get  a  taste,  slight  though  it  be,  of  the  golden 
Trinacria  of  the  ancients.  Perhaps,  after  all,  this  delay  which 
so  vexes  me  (bear  in  mind,  I  am  no  longer  in  the  Orient  !)  may 
be  meant  solely  for  my  good.  At  least,  Mr.  Winthrop,  our 
Consul  here,  who  has  been  exceedingly  kind  and  courteous  to  me, 
thinks  it  a  rare  good  fortune  that  I  shall  see  the  Catanion 
festa 


DBPARTURE     FROM     MALTA.  383 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE     FESTIVAL     OF     ST.     AGATHA 

Departure  from  Malta— The  Speronara— Our  Fellow-Passengers— The  first  Nifff.t  o« 
Board— Sicily — Scarcity  of  Provisions— Beating  In  the  Calabrian  Channel — The 
Fourth  Morning— The  Gulf  of  Catania — A  Sicilian  Landscape— The  Anchorage — The 
Suspecteil  List — The  Streets  of  Catania— Biography  of  St.  Agatha — Tlie  Illuminations 
— The  Procession  of  the  Veil— The  Biscari  Palace — The  Antiquities  of  Catania— Tin 
Convent  of  St.  Nicola. 

"  The  morn  is  full  of  holiday,  loud  bells 
With  rival  clamors  ring  from  every  spire  ; 
Cunningly-stationed  music  difs  and  swells 
In  echoing  places  ;  when  tlie  winds  respire, 
Light  flags  stream  out  like  gauzy  tongues  of  fire." — Ebats 

Cataxia,  Sicily,  i^ru/ay,  Augu-it  20,  \S62. 

I  WENT  on  board  the  speronara  in  iht;  harbor  of  La  Yalotta  at 
the  appointed  hour  (5  p.  m.),  and  found  the  remaining  sixteen 
passengers  already  embarked.  The  captain  made  his  appear- 
ance an  hour  later,  with  our  bill  of  health  and  passports,  and 
as  the  sun  went  down  behind  the  brown  hills  of  the  island,  we 
passed  the  wave-worn  rocks  of  the  promontory,  dividing  the 
two  harbors,  and  slowly  moved  off  towards  Sicily. 

The  Maltese  speronara  resembles  the  ancient  Roman  galley 
more  than  any  modern  craft.  It  has  the  same  high,  curved 
poop  and  stern,  the  same  short  masts  and  broad,  square  sails. 
The  hull  is  too  broad  for  speed,  but  this  adds  to  the  security 


364  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

of  the  vessel  in  a  gale.  With  a  fair  wind,  it  rarely  makes  mow 
than  eight  knots  an  hoar,  and  in  a  calm,  the  sailors  (if  not  too 
lazy)  propel  it  forward  with  six  long  oars.  The  hull  is  painted 
in  a  fanciful  style,  generally  blue,  red,  green  and  white,  with 
bright  red  masts.  The  bulwarks  are  low,  and  the  deck  of  such 
a  convexity  that  it  is  quite  impossible  to  walk  it  in  a  heavy  sea. 
Such  was  the  vessel  to  which  I  found  myself  consigned.  It  waa 
not  more  than  fifty  feet  long,  and  of  less  capacity  than  a  Nile 
dahahhjeh.  There  was  a  sort  of  deck  cabm,  or  crib,  with  two 
berths,  but  most  of  the  passengers  slept  in  the  hold.  For  a 
passage  to  Catania  I  was  obliged  to  pay  forty  francs,  the 
owner  swearing  that  this  was  the  regular  price  ;  but,  as  I 
afterwards  discovered,  the  Maltese  only  paid  thirty-six  francs 
for  the  whole  trip.  However,  the  Captain  tried  to  make  up 
the  money's  worth  in  civilities,  and  was  incessant  in  his  atten- 
tions to  "  your  Lordships,"  as  he  styled  myself  and  my  com- 
panion, Caesar  di  Cagnola,  a  young  Milanese. 

The  Maltese  were  tailors  and  clerks,  who  were  taking  a 
holiday  trip  to  witness  the  great  festival  of  St.  Agatha.  With 
two  exceptions,  they  were  a  wild  and  senseless,  though  good- 
natured  set,  and  in  spite  of  sea-sickness,  which  exercised  them 
terribly  for  the  first  two  days,  kept  up  a  constant  jabber  in 
their  bastard  Arabic  from  morning  till  night.  As  is  usual  in 
such  a  company,  one  of  them  was  obliged  to  serve  as  a  butt  for 
the  rest,  and  "  Maestro  Paolo,"  as  they  termed  him,  wore  such 
a  profoundly  serious  face  all  the  while,  from  his  sea-sickness, 
that  the  fun  never  came  to  an  end.  As  they  were  going  to  a 
religious  festival,  some  of  them  had  brought  their  breviaries 
along  with  them  ;  but  I  am  obliged  to  testify  that,  after  the 
first  day,  prayers  were  totally  forgotten.     The  sailors,  how- 


SICILY.  &65 

ever,  wore  linen  bags,  printed  with  a  figure  of  the  Madounu, 
around  their  necks. 

The  sea  was  rather  rough,  but  Cajsar  and  I  fortified  our 
stomachs  with  a  bottle  of  English  ale,  and  as  it  was  dark  by 
this  time,  sought  our  resting-places  for  the  night.  As  we  hud 
paid  double,  ^places  were  assured  us  in  the  coop  on  deck,  bui 
beds  were  not  included  in  the  bargain.  Tlie  Maltese,  who  had 
brought  mattresses  and  spread  a  large  Phalansterian  bed  in 
tlie  hold,  farecl  much  better.  I  took  one  of  my  carpet  bags 
for  a  pillow  and  lay  down  on  the  planks,  where  I  succeeded  in 
getting  a  little  sleep  between  the  groans  of  the  helpless  land- 
lubbers. We  had  the  ponente,  or  west-wind,  all  night,  but  the 
Bperonara  moved  sluggishly,  and  in  the  morning  it  changed  to 
the  greco-leranle,  or  north-cast.  Xo  land  was  in  sight ;  but 
towards  noon,  the  sky  became  clearer,  and  we  saw  the  southern 
coast  of  Sicily — a  bold  mountain-shore,  looming  phantom-like 
in  the  distance.  Cape  Passaro  was  to  the  east,  and  the  rest  of 
the  day  was  spent  in  beating  up  to  it.  At  sunset,  we  were 
near  enough  to  see  the  villages  and  olive-groves  of  the  beauti- 
ful shore,  and,  far  behind  the  nearer  mountains,  ninety  milea 
distant,  the  solitary  cone  of  Etna. 

The  second  night  passed  like  the  first,  except  that  our 
bruised  limbs  were  rather  more  sensitive  to  the  texture  of  the 
planks.  We  crawled  out  of  our  coop  at  dawn,  expecting  to 
behold  Catania  in  the  distance  ;  but  there  was  Cape  Passaro 
still  staring  us  in  the  face.  The  Maltese  were  patient,  and  wo 
did  not  complain,  though  Caesar  and  I  began  to  make  nice  cab 
culatious  as  to  the  probable  duration  of  our  two  cold  fowls 
aiid  three  loaves  of  bread.  The  promontory  of  Syracuse  was 
barely  visible  forty  miles  ahead  ;  bit  the  wind  was  against  us, 


366  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

and  so  another  day  passed  in  beating  up  the  eastern  coafct 
At  dusk,  we  overtook  another  speronara  which  had  left  Malta 
two  hours  before  us,  and  this  was  quite  a  triumph  to  our  cap- 
tain. All  the  oars  were  shipped,  the  sailors  and  some  of  the 
more  courageous  passengers  took  hold,  and  we  shot  ahead, 
scudding  rapidly  along  the  dark  shores,  to  the  sound  of  the 
wild  Maltese  songs.  At  length,  the  promontory  was  gained, 
and  the  restless  current,  rolling  down  from  Scylla  and  Charyb- 
dis,  tossed  our  little  bark  from  wave  to  wave  with  a  reckless- 
ness that  would  have  made  any  one  nervous  but  an  old  sailor 
like  myself. 

"To-morrow  morning,"  said  the  Captain,  "we  shall  sail  into 
Catania  ;"  but  after  a  third  night  on  the  planks,  which  were 
now  a  little  softer,  we  rose  to  find  ourselves  abreast  of  Syra- 
cuse, with  Etna  as  distant  as  ever.  The  wind  was  light,  and 
what  little  we  made  by  tacking  was  swept  away  by  the  cur- 
rent, so  that,  after  wasting  the  whole  forenoon,  we  kept  a 
straight  course  across  the  mouth  of  the  channel,  and  at  sunset 
saw  the  Calabrian  Mountains.  This  move  only  lost  us  more 
ground,  as  it  happened.  Caesar  and  I  mournfully  and  silently 
consumed  our  last  fragment  of  beef,  with  the  remaining  dry 
trusts  of  bread,  and  then  sat  down  doggedly  to  smoke  and  see 
whether  the  captain  would  discover  our  situation.  But  no  ; 
while  we  were  supplied,  the  whole  vessel  was  at  our  Lordships' 
command,  and  now  that  we  were  destitute,  he  took  care  to 
make  no  rash  offers.  Caesar,  at  last,  with  an  imperial  dignity 
becoming  his  name,  commanded  dinner.  It  came,  and  the  pork 
and  maccaroni,  moistened  with  red  Sicilian  wine,  gave  U8 
patience  for  another  day. 

The    fourth    morning    dawned,    and — Great    Neptune    b« 


TUE    GULF    or   CATANIA.  361 

praised ! — we  were  actually  within  the  Gulf  of  Catania.  Etna 
loomed  up  in  all  his  sublime  bulk,  unobscured  by  cloud  or  ini&t, 
while  a  slender  jet  of  smoke  rising  from  his  crater,  was  slowlj 
curling  its  wreaths  in  the  clear  air,  as  if  happy  to  receive  tlie 
first  beam  of  the  sun.  The  towers  of  Syracuse,  which  had 
mocked  us  all  the  preceding  day,  were  no  longer  visible ;  the 
land-locked  little  port  of  Augusta  lay  behind  us  ;  and,  as  the 
wind  continued  favorable,  erelong  we  saw  a  faint  white  mark 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  This  was  Catania.  The  shores 
of  the  bay  were  enlivened  with  olive-groves  and  the  gleam  of 
the  villages,  while  here  and  there  a  single  palm  dreamed  of  its 
brothers  across  the  sea.  Etna,  of  course,  hud  the  monarch's 
place  in  the  landscape,  but  even  his  large,  magnificent  outlines 
could  not  usurp  all  my  feeling.  The  purple  peaks  to  the  west- 
ward and  farther  inland,  had  a  beauty  of  their  own,  and  in  the 
gentle  curves  with  which  they  leaned  towards  each  other,  there 
was  a  promise  of  the  flowery  meadows  of  Eruia.  The  smooth 
blue  water  was  speckled  with  fishing-boats.  AVe  hailed  one, 
inquiring  when  the  festa  was  to  commence  ;  but,  mistaking  our 
question,  they  answered  :  "  Anchovies."  Thereupon,  a  waggish 
Maltese  informed  them  that  Maestro  Paolo  thanked  them 
heartily.  All  the  other  boats  were  hailed  in  the  name  of 
Maestro  Paolo,  who,  having  recovered  irom  his  sea-sickness, 
took  his  bantering  good-huraoredly. 

Catania  presented  a  lovely  picture,  as  we  drew  near  the 
harbor.  Planted  at  the  very  foot  of  Etna,  it  has  a  background 
such  as  neither  Naples  nor  Genoa  can  boast.  The  hills  next 
the  sea  are  covered  with  gardens  and  orchards,  sprinkled  with 
little  villages  and  the  country  palaces  of  the  nobles — a  rich, 
cultured    landscape,  which  gradually  merges  into  the  forests  of 


368  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

oak  and  chestnut  that  girdle  the  waist  of  the  great  volcono 
But  all  the  wealth  of  southern  vegetation  cannot  hide  the 
footsteps  of  that  Ruin,  which  from  time  to  time  visits  the  soil. 
Half-way  up,  the  mountain-side  is  dotted  with  cones  of  ashes  and 
cinders,  some  covered  with  the  scanty  shrubbery  which  centuries 
have  called  forth,  some  barren  and  recent  ;  while  two  dark, 
winding  streams  of  sterile  lava  descend  to  the  very  shore, 
where  they  stand  congealed  in  ragged  needles  and  pyramids. 
Part  of  one  of  these  black  floods  has  swept  the  town,  and, 
tumbling  into  the  sea,  walls  one  side  of  the  port. 

"We  glided  slowly  past  the  mole,  and  dropped  anchor  a  few 
yards  from  the  shore.  There  was  a  sort  of  open  promenade 
planted  with  trees,  in  front  of  us,  surrounded  with  high  white 
houses,  above  which  rose  the  dome  of  the  Cathedral  and  the 
spires  of  other  churches.  The  magnificent  palace  of  Prince 
Biscari  was  on  our  right,  and  at  its  foot  the  Customs  and 
Revenue  offices.  Every  roof,  portico,  and  window  was  hned 
with  lamps,  a  triumphal  arch  spanned  the  street  before  the 
palace,  and  the  landing-place  at  the  offices  was  festooned  with 
crimson  and  white  drapery,  spangled  with  gold.  While  we 
were  waiting  permission  to  land,  a  scene  presented  itself  which 
recalled  the  pagan  days  of  Sicily  to  my  mind.  A  procession 
came  in  sight  from  under  the  trees,  and  passed  along  the  shore. 
In  the  centre  was  borne  a  stately  shrine,  hung  with  garlands, 
and  containing  an  image  of  St.  Agatha.  The  sound  of  flutes 
and  cymbals  accompanied  it,  and  a  band  of  children,  bearing 
orange  and  palm  branches,  danced  riotously  before.  Had  the 
image  been  Pan  instead  of  St.  Agatha,  the  ceremonies  would 
have  been  quite  as  appropriate. 

The  speronara's  boat  at  last  took  us  to  the  gorgeous  landing 


THE     SUSPECTKD     LIST.  809 

place,  where  we  were  carefully  counted  by  a  fat  Sicilian  official, 
and  declared  free  from  quarantine.  We  were  then  called  into 
the  Passport  Office,  where  the  Maltese  underwent  a  searching 
examination.  One  of  the  officers  sat  with  the  Black  Book,  oi 
list  of  susjiected  persons  of  all  nations,  open  before  him,  and 
looked  for  each  name  as  it  was  called  out.  Another  scanned 
the  faces  of  the  f-ightened  tailors,  as  if  comparing  them  with 
certain  revolutionary  visages  in  his  mind.  Terrible  was  the 
keen,  detective  glance  of  his  eye,  and  it  went  straight  through 
the  poor  Maltese,  who  vanished  with  great  rai)idity  when  they 
were  declared  free  to  enter  the  city.  At  last,  they  all  passed 
the  ordeal,  but  Caesar  and  I  remained,  looking  in  at  the  door. 
"  There  are  still  these  two  Frenchmen,"  said  the  captain.  "  1 
am  no  Frenchman,"  I  protested  ;  "  I  am  an  American."  "  And 
I,"  said  Coesar,  "  am  an  Austrian  subject."  Thereupon  we 
received  a  polite  invitation  to  enter  ;  the  terrible  glance  softened 
into  a  benign,  respectful  smile  ;  he  of  the  Black  Book  ran 
lightly  over  the  C's  and  T's,  and  said,  with  a  courteous  inclina- 
tion :  "  There  is  nothing  against  the  signori."  I  felt  quite 
relieved  by  this  ;  for,  in  the  Mediterranean,  one  is  never  safe 
from  spies,  and  no  person  is  too  insignificant  to  escape  the  ban, 
if  once  suspected. 

Calabria  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  strangers  from  all 
parts  of  the  Two  Sicilies,  and  we  had  some  difficulty  in  flnding 
very  bad  and  dear  lodgings.  It  was  the  first  day  of  the  festa, 
and  the  streets  were  filled  with  peasants,  the  men  in  black 
velvet  jackets  and  breeclies,  with  stockings,  and  long  white  cot- 
ton caps  hanging  on  the  shoulders,  and  the  women  with  gay 
Bilk  shawls  on  their  heads,  after  the  manner  of  tlic  Mexican 
reboza.     In  all  the  public  squares,  the  market  scene  in  Massi 

16* 


370  THE     lANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN. 

niello  was  acted  to  the  life.  The  Sicilian  dialect  is  harsh  and 
barbarous,  and  the  original  Italian  is  so  disguised  by  the  admix- 
ture of  Arabic,  Spanish,  French,  and  Greek  words,  that  even 
my  imperial  friend,  who  was  a  born  Italian,  had  great  difficultj 
in  understanding  the  people. 

I  purchased  a  guide  to  the  festa,  which,  among  other  things, 
contained  a  biography  of  St.  Agatha.  It  is  a  beautiful  speci- 
men of  pious  writing,  and  I  regret  that  I  have  not  space  to 
traiisiaie  the  whole  of  it.  Agatha  was  a  beautiful  Cataniaa 
virgin,  who  secretly  embraced  Christianity  during  the  reign  of 
Nero.  Catania  was  then  governed  by  a  praetor  named  Quin- 
tianus,  who,  becoming  enamored  of  Agatha,  used  the  most 
brutal  means  to  compel  her  to  submit  to  his  desires,  but  with- 
out effect.  At  last,  driven  to  the  crudest  extremes,  he  cut  off 
her  breasts,  and  threw  her  into  prison.  But  at  midnight,  St. 
Peter,  accompanied  by  an  angel,  appeared  to  her,  restored  the 
maimed  parts,  and  left  her  more  beautiful  than  ever.  Quin- 
tianus  then  ordered  a  furnace  to  be  heated,  and  cast  lier 
therein.  A  terrible  earthquake  shook  the  city  ;  the  sun  was 
eclipsed  ;  the  sea  rolled  backwards,  and  left  its  bottom  dry ; 
,he  praitor's  palace  fell  in  ruins,  and  he,  pursued  by  the  ven- 
:feance  of  the  populace,  fled  till  he  reached  the  river  Simeto, 
where  he  was  drowned  in  attempting  to  cross.  "The  thunders 
of  the  vengeance  of  God,"  says  the  biography,  "  struck  hira 
down  into  the  profoundest  Hell  1"  This  was  in  the  year 
252. 

The  body  was  carried  to  Constantinople  in  1040,  ■*  although 
the  Catanians  wept  incessantly  at  their  loss  ;"  but  in  1126,  two 
French  kniglits,  named  Gilisbert  and  Goselin,  were  moved  by 
angelic  influences  to  restore  it  to  its  native  town,  ^hich  they 


THE     ILLUMNAnON.  37 1 

accomplished,  "  and  the  eyes  of  tlie  Catanians  again  burned 
with  joy."  The  miracles  effected  by  the  saint  are  numberless^ 
and  her  power  is  especially  efficacious  in  preventing  earth- 
quakes and  eruptions  of  Mount  Etna.  Nevertheless,  Catania 
has  suffered  more  from  these  causes  than  any  other  town  iii 
Sicily.  Bnt  I  would  that  all  saints  had  as  good  a  claim  tc 
canonization  as  St.  Agatha.  The  honors  of  such  a  festival  as 
this  are  not  out  of  place,  when  paid  to  such  youth,  beauty, 
and  "  heavenly  chastity,"  as  she  typifies. 

The  guide,  which  I  have  already  consulted,  gives  a  full 
account  of  the  festa,  in  advance,  with  a  description  of  Catania. 
The  author  says  :  "  If  thy  heart  is  not  inspired  by  gazing  on 
this  lovely  city,  it  is  a  fatal  sign — tiiou  wcrt  not  born  to  feel 
the  sweet  impulses  of  the  Beautiful !"  Then,  in  announcing 
the  illuminations  and  pyrotechnic  displays,  he  exclaims  :  "  Oh, 
the  amazing  spectacle  I  Oh,  how  happy  art  thou,  that  thou 
b"holdest  it  !  What  pyramids  of  lami)S  !  What  myriads  of 
rockets  !  What  wonderful  temples  of  flame  1  The  Mountain 
himself  is  astonished  at  such  a  display."  And  truly,  except 
the  illuraiuation  of  the  Golden  Horn  on  the  Night  of  Predes- 
tination, I  have  seen  nothing  equal  to  the  spectacle  presented 
by  Catania,  during  the  past  three  nights.  The  city,  which  has 
been  built  up  from  her  ruins  more  stately  than  ever,  was  in  a 
blaze  of  light — all  her  domes,  towers,  and  the  long  lines  of  her 
beautiful  palaces  revealed  in  the  varying  red  and  golden  flames 
of  a  hundred  thousand  lamps  and  torches.  Pyramids  of  firo, 
transparencies,  and  illuminated  triumphal  arches  filled  the  four 
principal  streets,  and  the  fountain  in  the  Cathedral  square 
gleamed  like  a  jot  of  molten  silver,  spinning  up  from  one  of  the 
pores  of  Etna.    At  ten  o'clock,  a  gorgeous  display  of  fire-work? 


313  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

closed  the  day's  festivities,  but  the  lamps  remained  burning 
nearly  all  night. 

On  the  second  night,  the  grand  Procession  of  the  Veil  took 
place.  I  witnessed  this  imposing  spectacle  from  the  balcony 
of  Prince  Gessina's  pala  ;e.  Long  lines  of  waxen  torches  led 
the  way,  followed  by  a  military  band,  and  then  a  company  of 
the  highest  prelates,  in  their  most  brilliant  costumes,  surround 
ing  the  Bishop,  who  walked  under  a  canopy  of  silk  and  gold, 
bearing  the  miraculous  veil  of  St.  Agatha,  I  was  blessed  with 
a  distant  view  of  it,  but  could  see  no  traces  of  the  rosy  hue 
left  upon  it  by  the  flames  of  the  Saint's  martyrdom.  Behind 
the  priests  came  the  Intendente  of  Sicily,  Gen.  Filangieri,  the 
same  who,  three  years  ago,  ga,ve  up  Catania  to  sack  and 
slaughter.  He  was  followed  by  the  Senate  of  the  City,  who 
have  just  had  the  cringing  cowardice  to  offer  him  a  ball  on 
next  Sunday  night.  If  ever  a  man  deserved  the  vengeance  of 
an  outraged  people,  it  is  this  Filangieri,  who  was  first  a  Liberal, 
when  the  cause  promised  success,  and  then  made  himself  the 
scourge  of  the  vilest  of  kings.  As  he  passed  me  last  night  in 
his  carriage  of  State,  while  the  music  pealed  in  rich  rejoicing 
strains,  that  solemn  chant  with  which  the  monks  break  upon 
the  revellers,  in  "  Lucrezia  Borgia,"  came  into  my  mind  : 

"  La  gioja  dei  profaui 
'E  un  fumo  passagier' — " 

[the  rejoicing  of  the  profane  is  a  transitory  mist.]     I  heard, 
nnder  the  din  of  all  these  festivities,  the  voice  of  that  RelribU' 
tion  which  even  now  lies  in  wait,  and  will  not  long  be  delayed. 
To-night  Signor  Scavo,  the  American  Vice-Consul,  took  me 
to  the  palace  of  Prince  Biscari,  overlooking  the  harbor,  ie 


THfi     BISCARI     PALACE.  S73 

order  to  behold  the  grand  display  of  Srcworks  from  the  end  of 
the  mole.  Tlic  showers  of  rockets  and  colored  stars,  and  the 
temples  of  blue  and  silver  fire,  were  repeated  in  the  dark,  quiet 
bosom  of  the  sea,  producing  the  most  dazzling  and  startling 
effects.  There  was  a  large  number  of  the  Catanese  nobility 
present,  and  among  them  a  Marchesa  Gioveni,  the  descendant 
of  the  bloody  house  of  Anjou.  Prince  Biscari  is  a  benign, 
courtly  old  man,  and  greatly  esteemed  here.  His  sou  is  at 
present  in  exile,  on  account  of  the  part  he  took  in  the  late 
revolution.  During  the  sack  of  the  city  under  Filangieri,  the 
palace  was  plundered  of  property  to  the  amount  of  ten  thou- 
sand dollars.  The  museum  of  Greek  and  Roman  antiquitier 
attached  to  it,  and  which  the  house  of  Biscari  has  been  collect- 
ing for  many  years,  is  {)robably  the  finest  in  Sicily.  The  state 
apartments  were  thrown  open  this  evening,  and  when  I  left,  aL 
hour  ago,  the  greater  portion  of  the  guests  were  going  through 
mazy  quadrilles  on  the  mosaic  pavements. 

Among  the  antiquities  of  Catania  which  I  have  visited,  are 
the  Amphitheatre,  capable  of  holding  15,000  persons,  the  old 
Greek  Theatre,  the  same  in  which  Alcibiades  made  his  noted 
harangue  to  the  Catanians,  the  Odeon,  and  the  ancient  Baths. 
The  theatre,  which  is  in  tolerable  preservation,  is  built  of  lava, 
like  many  of  the  modern  edifices  in  the  city.  The  Baths 
proved  to  me,  what  I  had  supposed,  that  the  Oriental  Bath  of 
the  present  day  is  identical  with  that  of  the  Ancients.  Why 
60  admirable  an  institution  has  never  been  introduced  into 
Eu.'ope  (except  in  the  Boins  Chinois  of  Paris)  is  more  tliau  I 
can  tell  From  the  pavement  of  these  baths,  which  is  nearly 
twenty  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  lava  of  later 
eruptions  has  burst  up,  in  places,  ic  hard  black  jets.    The  most 


Sli  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

wonderful  token  of  that  flood  which  whelmed  Catania  two 
hundred  years  ago,  is  to  be  seen  at  the  Grand  Benedictine 
Convent  of  San  Nicola,  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city.  Here 
tlie  stream  of  lava  divides  itself  just  before  the  Convent,  and 
flows  past  on  both  sides,  leaving  the  building  and  gardena 
untouched.  The  marble  courts,  the  fountains,  the  sj^lendid 
galleries,  and  the  gardens  of  richest  southern  bloom  and  fra- 
grance, stand  like  an  epicurean  island  in  the  midst  of  the  terri- 
ble stony  waves,  whose  edges  bristle  with  the  thorny  aloe  and 
cactus.  The  monks  of  San  Nicola  are  all  chosen  from  the 
Sicilian  nobility,  and  live  a  comfortable  life  of  luxury  and  vice. 
Each  one  has  his  own  oarriage,  horses,  and  servants,  and  each 
bis  private  chambers  outside  of  the  convent  walls  and  his  kept 
concubines.  These  facts  are  known  and  acknowledged  by  the 
Catanians,  to  whom  they  are  a  lasting  scandal. 

It  is  past  midnight,  and  I  must  close.  Csesar  started  this 
afternoon,  alone,  for  the  ascent  of  Etna.  I  would  have  accom- 
panied him,  but  my  only  chance  of  reaching  Messina  in  time 
for  the  next  steamer  to  Naples  is  the  diligence  which  leaves 
here  to-morrow.  The  mountain  hae  been  covered  with  clouds 
for  the  last  two  days,  and  I  have  had  no  view  at  all  compara- 
ble to  that  of  the  morning  of  my  arrival.  To-morrow  the 
grand  procesDion  of  the  Body  of  St.  Agatha  takes  place,  but 
1  am  quite  satisfied  with  three  days  of  processions  and  horse 
races,  and  three  nights  of  illuminations. 

I  leave  in  the  morning,  with  a  Sicilian  passport,  my  own 
availing  me  nothing,  after  hnding. 


THB  MOUNTAIN  THREATENS.  B76 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

THE     ERUPTION     OF     MOUNT     ETNA 

Die  M;.untalu  Threatens — The  Signs  Increase — TVe  Leave  Catania— Gardens  Among 
the  L*va— Etna  Labors — Aci  Reale — Tlie  Groans  of  Etna — The  Eruption — (ri^anllc 
Tree  ftf  Smoke — Formation  of  the  New  Crater — We  Lose  Sight  of  the  Mountain — Arrival 
•t  Messina — Etna  is  Obscured — Departure. 


'  the  shattered  side 


Of  thunderiug  >Etna,  whose  com\)ustible 

And  fuel'd  entrails  thence  couceiviiig  fire, 

Sublimed  with  mineral  fury,  aid  the  winds, 

And  leave  a  singed  bottom."  Miltoh. 

Messina,  Sicily,  Monday,  Attffust  28, 1352. 

The  noises  of  the  festival  had  not  ceased  when  I  closed  m^ 
letter  at  midnight,  on  Friday  last.  I  slept  soundly  tlirough 
the  night,  but  was  awakened  before  sunrise  by  my  Sicilian  land- 
lord. "  0,  Excellenza  !  have  you  heard  the  Mountain  ?  He  is 
going  to  break  out  again  ;  may  the  holy  Santa  Agatiia  protect 
us  1"  It  is  rather  ill-timed  on  the  part  of  the  Mountain,  was 
my  involuntary  first  thought,  that  he  should  choose  for  a  new 
eruption  precisely  the  centennial  festival  of  the  only  Saint  who 
is  supposed  to  have  any  power  over  him.  It  shows  a  disregard 
of  female  influence  not  at  all  suited  to  the  pi-esent  day,  and  I 
scarcely  believe  that  he  seriously  means  it.  Next  came  along 
the  jabbering  landlady :  "  I  don't  like  his  looks.  It  was  just 
so  the  last  time.     Come,  Excellenza,  you  can  see  him  from  the 


878  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

back  terrace."  The  sun  was  not  yet  risen,  but  the  east  was 
bright  with  his  coming,  and  tlierc  was  not  a  cloud  in  the  sky 
All  the  features  of  Etna  were  sharply  sculptured  in  the  clear 
air.  From  the  topmost  cone,  a  thick  stream  of  white  smoke 
was  slowly  puffed  out  at  short  intervals,  and  roiled  lazily  down 
the  eastern  side.  It  had  a  heavy,  languid  character,  and  .1 
should  have  thought  nothing  of  the  appearance  but  for  th. 
alarm  of  my  hosts.  It  was  like  the  slow  fire  of  Earth's 
Incense,  burning  on  that  grand  mountain  altar. 

I  hurried  off  to  the  Post  Office,  to  await  the  arrival  of  the 
diligence  from  Palermo.  The  office  is  in  the  Strada  Etnea, 
the  TOain  street  of  Catania,  which  runs  straight  through  the 
city,  from  the  sea  to  the  base  of  the  mountain,  whose  peah 
closes  the  long  vista.  The  diligence  was  an  hour  later  than 
usual,  and  I  passed  the  time  in  watching  the  smoke  which  con- 
tinued to  increase  in  volume,  and  was  mingled,  from  time  to 
time,  with  jets  of  inky  blackness.  The  postilion  said  ho  had 
seen  fires  and  heard  loud  noises  during  the  night.  According 
to  his  account,  the  disturbances  commenced  about  midnight. 
I  could  not  but  envy  ray  friend  Caisar,  who  was  probably  at 
that  moment  on  the  summit,  looking  down  into  the  seething 
fires  of  the  crater. 

At  last,  we  rolled  out  of  Catania,  There  were  in  the  dili- 
gence, besides  myself,  two  men  and  a  woman,  Sicilians  of  the 
secondary  class.  The  road  followed  the  shore,  over  rugged 
tracts  of  lava,  the  different  epochs  of  which  could  be  distinctly 
traced  in  the  character  of  the  vegetation.  The  last  great  flow 
(of  1019)  stood  piled  in  long  rklges  of  terrible  sterility,  barely 
allowing  the  aloe  and  cactus  to  take  root  in  the  hollows  between. 
The  older  deposits  were   sufficiently  decomposed   to  nouriab 


THE     MOUNTAIN      I^BORS.  37  "l 

the  olive  and  vine  ;  but  even  here,  the  orchards  were  studded 
with  pyramids  of  the  harder  fragments,  wliich  are  laboriously 
3ollected  by  the  husbandmen.  In  the  few  favored  spots  which 
have  been  untouched  for  so  many  ages  that  a  tolerable  dejjth  of 
soil  has  accumulated,  the  vegetation  has  all  the  richness  and 
brilliancy  of  tropical  lands.  Tiie  palm,  orange,  and  pome- 
granate thrive  luxuriantly,  and  the  vines  almost  break  under 
their  heavy  clusters.  The  villages  are  frequent  and  well  built, 
and  the  hills  are  studded,  far  and  near,  with  the  villas  of  rich 
proprietors,  mostly  buildings  of  one  story,  with  verandahs 
extending  their  whole  length.  Looking  up  towards  Etna, 
whose  base  the  road  encircles,  the  views  are  gloriously  rich  and 
beautiful.  On  the  other  hand  is  the  blue  Mediterranean  and 
the  irregular  outline  of  the  shore,  here  and  there  sending  forth 
promontories  of  lava,  cooled  by  the  waves  into  the  most  fan- 
tastic forms. 

We  had  not  proceeded  far  before  a  new  sign  called  my 
attention  to  the  mountain.  Not  only  was  there  a  perceptible 
jar  or  vibration  in  the  earth,  but  a  dull,  groaning  sound,  like 
the  muttering  of  distant  thunder,  began  to  be  heard.  The 
smoke  increased  in  volume,  and,  as  we  advanced  further  to  tlie 
eastward,  and  much  nearer  to  the  great  cone,  I  perceived  that 
it  consisted  of  two  jets,  issuing  from  different  mouths.  A 
broad  stream  of  very  dense  white  smoke  still  flowed  over  the 
lip  of  the  topmost  crater  and  down  the  eastern  side.  As  its 
breadth  did  not  vary,  and  the  edges  were  distinctly  defined,  it 
was  m  doubt  the  sulphureous  vapor  rising  from  a  river  of 
molten  lava.  Perhaps  a  thousand  yards  below,  a  much  stronger 
column  of  mingled  black  and  white  smoke  gushed  up,  in  regular 
beats  or  pants,  from  a  depression  in  the  mountain  side,  between 


318  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

two  small,  ejGtinct  cones.  All  tins  part  of  Etna  was  scarred 
w^itli  deep  chasms,  and  in  the  bottoms  of  those  nearest  the 
opening,  I  could  see  the  red  gleam  of  fire.  The  air  was  per- 
fectly still,  and  as  yet  there  was  no  cloud  in  the  sky. 

When  we  stopped  to  change  horses  at  the  town  of  Aci 
lleale,  I  first  felt  the  violence  of  the  tremor  and  the  awful 
Bternness  of  the  sound.  The  smoke  by  this  time  seemed  to  be 
gathering  on  the  side  towards  Catania,  and  hung  in  a  dark 
mass  about  half-way  down  the  mountain.  Groups  of  the  vil- 
lagers were  gathered  in  the  streets  which  looked  upwards  to 
Etna,  and  discussing  the  chances  of  an  eruption.  "  Ah,"  said 
an  old  peasant,  "  the  Mountain  knows  how  to  make  himself 
respected.  When  he  talks,  everybody  listens."  The  sound 
was  the  most  awful  that  ever  met  my  ears.  It  was  a  hard, 
painful  moan,  now  and  then  fluttering  like  a  suppressed  sob, 
and  had,  at  the  same  time,  an  expression  of  threatening  and  of 
agony.  It  did  not  come  from  Etna  alone.  It  had  no  fixed 
location  ;  it  pervaded  all  space.  It  was  in  the  air,  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea,  in  the  earth  under  my  feet — everywhere,  in 
fact ;  and  as  it  continued  to  increase  in  violence,  I  experienced 
a  sensation  of  positive  pain.  The  people  looked  anxious  and 
alarmed,  although  they  said  it  was  a  good  thing  for  all  Sicily  ; 
that  last  year  they  had  been  in  constant  fea.r  from  earthquakes, 
and  that  an  eruption  invariably  left  the  island  quiet  for  several 
years.  It  is  true  that,  during  the  past  year,  parts  of  Sicily 
and  Calabria  have  been  visited  with  severe  shocks,  occasioning 
much  damage  to  property.  A  merchant  of  this  city  informed 
me  yesterday  that  his  whole  family  had  slept  for  two  montha 
in  the  vaults  of  his  warehouse,  fearing  that  their  residence 
might  be  shaken  down  in  the  night. 


THE     ERUPTION.  3tS 

As  we  rode  along  from  Aci  Reale  to  TaDrmina,  all  the  rat- 
tling of  the  diligence  over  the  rough  road  could  not  drown 
Ihe  awful  noise.  There  was  a  strong  smell  of  sulphur  in  the 
air,  and  the  thick  pants  of  smoke  from  the  lower  crater  .;or> 
tinned  to  increase  in  strength.  The  sun  was  Cerce  and  hot, 
and  the  edges  of  the  sulphureous  clouds  shone  with  a  dazzling 
whiteness.  A  mounted  soldier  overtook  us,  and  rode  beside 
the  diligence,  talking  with  the  postillion.  He  had  been  up  to 
the  mountain,  and  was  taking  his  report  to  the  Governor  ol 
the  district.  The  heat  of  the  day  and  the  continued  tremor 
of  the  air  lulled  me  into  a  sort  of  doze,  when  I  was  suddenly 
aroused  by  a  cry  from  the  soldier  and  the  stopping  of  the  dili- 
gence. At  the  same  time,  there  was  a  terrific  peal  of  sound, 
followed  by  a  jar  which  must  have  shaken  the  whole  island. 
We  looked  up  to  Etna,  which  was  fortunately  in  full  view 
before  us.  An  immense  mass  of  snow-white  smoke  had  burst 
up  from  the  crater  and  was  rising  perpendicularly  into  the  air, 
its  rounded  volumes  rapidly  whirling  one  over  the  other,  yet 
urged  with  such  impetus  that  they  only  rolled  outwards  after 
they  had  ascended  to  an  immense  height.  It  might  have  been 
one  minute  or  five — for  I  was  so  entranced  by  this  wonderful 
Bpectacle  that  I  lost  the  sense  of  time — but  it  seemed  instant- 
aneous (so  rapid  and  violent  were  the  effects  of  the  explosion), 
when  there  stood  in  the  air,  based  on  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tain, a  mass  of  smoke  four  or  five  miles  high,  and  shaped  pro- 
cisely  like  the  Italian  pine  tree. 

Words  cannot  paint  the  grandeur  of  this  mighty  tree.  Its 
trunk  of  columned  smoke,  one  side  of  which  was  silvered  by  the 
sun,  while  the  other,  in  shadow,  was  lurid  with  red  flame,  rose 
for  more  than  a  mile  before  it  sent  out  its  clcudy  boughs.    Then 


380  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

parting  into  a  thousand  streams,  each  of  which  again  threw 
out  its  branching  tufts  of  smoke,  rolling  and  waving  in  the  «it> 
it  stood  in  intense  relief  against  the  dark  blue  of  the  sky.  Its 
rounded  masses  of  foliage  were  dazzlingly  white  on  one  side, 
while,  in  the  shadowy  depths  of  the  branches,  there  was  a  con- 
stant play  of  brown,  yellow,  and  crimson  tints,  revealing  the 
central  shaft  of  fire.  It  was  like  the  tree  celebrated  in  the 
Scandinavian  sagas,  as  seen  by  the  mother  of  Harold  Har- 
drada — that  tree,  whose  roots  pierced  through  the  earth,  whose 
trunk  was  of  the  color  of  blood,  and  whose  branches  filled  the 
uttermost  corners  of  the  heavens. 

This  outburst  seemed  to  have  relieved  the  mountain,  for  the 
tremors  were  now  less  violent,  though  the  terrible  noise  still 
droned  in  the  air,  and  earth,  and  sea.  And  now,  from  the 
base  of  the  tree,  three  white  streams  slowly  crept  into  as  many 
separate  chasms,  against  the  walls  of  which  played  the  flicker- 
ing glow  of  the  burning  lava.  The  column  of  smoke  and  flame 
was  still  hurled  upwards,  and  the  tree,  after  standing  about 
ten  minutes — a  new  and  awful  revelation  of  the  active  forces 
of  Nature — gradually  rose  and  spread,  lost  its  form,  and, 
slowly  moved  by  a  light  wind  (the  first  that  disturbed  the  dead 
calm  of  the  day),  bent  over  to  the  eastward.  We  resumed 
our  course.  The  vast  belt  of  smoke  at  last  arched  over  the 
strait,  here  about  twenty  miles  wide,  and  sank  towards  the 
distant  Calabrian  shore.  As  we  drove  under  it,  for  some  miles 
of  our  way  the  sun  was  totally  obscured,  and  the  sky  pre- 
sented the  singular  spectacle  of  two  hemispheres  of  clear  blue, 
with  a  broad  belt  of  darkness  drawn  between  them.  There 
was  a  hot,  sulphureous  vapor  in  the  air,  and  showers  of  white 
Mbes  fell,  from  time  to  time.    We  were  distant  about  twelve 


WE     LOSE     SIGHT    OF     ETNA.  381 

miles,  in  a  straight  line,  from  the  crater  ;  bat  the  air  was  sc 
clear,  even  under  the  shadow  of  the  smoke,  that  I  could  dig 
tinctly  trace  the  downward  movciucnt  of  the  rivers  of  lava. 

This  was  the  eruption,  at  last,  to  which  all  the  phenomena 
of  the  morning  had  been  only  preparatory.  For  the  first  time 
in  ten  years  the  depths  of  Etna  had  been  stirred,  and  I  thanked 
God  for  my  detention  at  Malta,  and  the  singular  hazard  of 
travel  which  had  brought  me  here,  to  his  very  base,  to  witness 
a  scene,  the  impression  of  which  I  shall  never  lose,  to  my  dying 
day.  Although  the  eruption  may  continue  and  the  mountain 
pour  forth  fiercer  fires  and  broader  tides  of  lava,  I  cannot  but 
think  that  the  first  upheaval,  which  lets  out  the  long-imprisoned 
forces,  will  not  be  equalled  in  grandeur  by  any  later  spectacle. 

After  passing  Taormina,  our  road  led  us  under  the  hills  of 
ihe  coast,  and  although  I  occasionally  caught  glimpses  of  Etna, 
and  saw  the  reflection  of  fires  from  the  lava  which  was  filling 
up  his  savage  ravines,  the  smoke  at  last  encircled  nis  waist, 
and  ne  was  then  shut  out  of  sight  by  the  intervening  moun- 
tains. We  lost  a  bolt  in  a  deep  valley  opening  on  the  sea,  and 
during  our  stoppage  I  could  still  hear  the  groans  of  the  Moun- 
tain, though  farther  off  and  less  painful  to  the  ear.  As 
evening  came  on,  the  beautiful  hills  of  Calabria,  with  white 
towns  and  villages  on  their  sides,  gleamed  in  the  purple  light 
of  the  setting  sun.  We  drove  around  headland  after  headland, 
till  the  strait  opened,  and  we  looked  over  the  harbor  of  Messina 
to  Capo  Faro,  and  the  distant  islands  of  the  Tyrrhene  Sea. 


I  leave  this  afternoon  for  Naples  and  Leghorn.     I  have  lost 
already  so  much  time  between  Constantinople  and  this  place. 


383  THE     lANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN, 

that  I  cannol  give  up  ten  days  more  to  Etna.  Besides,  I  an 
so  thoroughly  satisfied  with  what  I  have  seen,  that  I  fear  no 
second  view  of  the  eruption  could  equal  it.  Etna  cannot  be 
seen  from  here,  nor  from  a  nearer  point  than  a  mountain  six  or 
eight  miles  distant.  I  tried  last  evening  to  get  a  horse  and 
ride  out  to  it,  in  order  to  see  the  appearance  of  the  eruption 
by  night  ;  but  every  horse,  mule  and  donkey  in  the  place  was 
engaged,  except  a  miserable  lame  mule,  for  which  five  dollars 
was  demanded.  However,  the  night  happened  to  be  cloudy, 
BO  that  I  could  have  seen  nothing. 

My  passport  is  finally  en  regie.  It  has  cost  the  labors  ol 
myself  and  an  able-bodied  valet-de-place  since  yesterday  morning, 
and  the  expenditure  of  five  dollars  and  a  half,  to  accomplish 
this  great  work.  I  have  just  been  righteously  abusing  the 
Neapolitan  Government  to  a  native  merchant  whom,  from  his 
name,  I  took  to  be  a  Frenchman,  but  as  I  am  off  in  an  hour  ov 
two,  hope  to  escape  arrest.     Perdition  to  all  Tyranny  I 


tmWKITTEN    UNKS    OF   TRAVEL.  S8B 


CHAPTER    XXXIl. 


GI  BRALTAR. 


Dnwritteu  Links  of  T  avel — Departure  from  Soathampton— The  Bay  of  Biscay— Cintra 
—Trafalgar — Qibra.tar  at  Midnight — Landing — Search  for  a  Palm-Tree — A  Brilliant 
Morning — The  Convexity  of  the  Earth — Sun-Wor3hip— The  Roclc. 


"  to  the  north-west,  Cape  St.  Vincent  died  away, 


Sunset  ran,  a  burning  blood-red,  blushing  into  Cadiz  Bay. 

In  the  dimmest  north-east  distance  dawned  Gibraltar,  grand  and  gray." 

Ebowhiso. 

QiBRALTAR,  Saturday,  Kotember  6, 1352. 

I  LEAVE  unrecorded  the  links  of  travel  which  connected  Me* 
Bina  and  Gibraltar.  They  were  over  the  well-trodden  fields  of 
Europe,  where  little  ground  is  left  that  is  not  familiar.  la 
leaving  Sicily  I  lost  the  Saracenic  trail,  which  I  had  been  fol- 
lowing through  the  East,  and  fii"st  find  it  again  here,  on  tho 
rock  of  Calpe,  whose  name,  Djebd  d-Tarik  (the  Mountain  of 
Tarik),  still  speaks  of  the  fiery  race  whose  rule  extended  from 
the  unknown  ocean  of  the  West  to  "  Ganges  and  Hydaspes, 
Indian  streams."  In  Malta  and  Sicily,  I  saw  their  decaying 
watch-towers,  and  recognized  their  sdgn-manual  in  the  deep, 
guttural,  masculine  words  and  expressions  which  they  havo 
left  behind  them.  1  now  design  following  their  footsteps 
through  the  beautiful  Bdad-d-Andaluz,  which,  to  the  eye  of 


384  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

the  Melek  Abd-er-rahman,  was  only  less  loTely  than  the  pluinfl 
of  Damascus. 

While  in  Constantinople,  I  received  letters  which  opened  to 
me  wider  and  richer  fields  of  travel  than  I  had  already  tra- 
versed. I  saw  a  possibility  of  exploring  the  far  Indian  realms, 
the  shores  of  farthest  Cathay  and  the  famed  Zipaugo  of  Marco 
Polo.  Before  entering  on  this  new  sphere  of  experiences,  how- 
ever, it  was  necessary  for  me  to  visit  Italy,  Germany,  and 
England.  I  sailed  from  Messina  to  Leghorn,  and  travelled 
thence,  by  way  of  Florence,  Venice,  and  the  Tyrol,  to  Munich 
After  three  happy  weeks  at  Gotha,  and  among  the  valleys  of 
the  Thiiringian  Forest,  I  went  to  London,  where  business  and 
the  preparation  for  my  new  journeys  detained  me  two  or  three 
weeks  longer.  Although  the  comforts  of  European  civilization 
were  pleasant,  as  a  change,  after  the  wild  life  of  the  Orient,  the 
autumnal  rains  of  England  soon  made  me  homesick  for  the 
sunshine  I  had  left.  The  weather  was  cold,  dark,  and  dreary, 
and  the  oppressive,  sticky  atmosphere  of  the  bituminous  n:ctro- 
polis  weighed  upon  me  like  a  nightmare.  Heartily  tired  of 
looking  at  a  sun  that  could  show  nothing  brighter  than  a  red 
copper  disk,  and  of  breathing  an  air  that  peppered  my  face 
with  particles  of  soot,  I  left  on  the  28th  of  October.  It  waa 
one  of  the  dismalest  days  of  autumn ;  the  meadows  of  Berk- 
shire were  flooded  with  broad,  muddy  streams,  and  the  woods 
on  the  hills  of  Hampshire  looked  brown  and  sodden,  as  if 
slowly  rotting  away.  I  reached  Southampton  at  dusk,  but 
there  the  sky  was  neither  warmer  nor  clearer,  so  I  spent  the 
evening  over  a  coal  fire,  all  impatience  for  the  bright  beloved 
South,  towards  which  my  face  was  turned  once  more. 

The  Madras  left  on  the  next  day,  at  2  p.m  ,  in  the  midst  d 


THE     BAT     OF    BISCAY.  8g5 

a  cheerless  rain,  which  half  blotted  out  the  pleasant  shores  of 
Southampton  Water,  and  the  Isle  of  Wight.  The  Madras 
was  a  singularly  appropriate  vessel  for  cue  bound  on  such  a 
journey  as  mine.  The  surgeon  was  Dr.  Mungo  Park,  and  one 
of  my  room-mates  was  Mr.  R.  Crusoe.  It  was  a  Friday, 
which  boded  no  good  for  the  voyage  ;  but  then  my  journey  com- 
menced with  my  leaving  Loudon  the  day  previous,  and  Thurs- 
day is  a  lucky  day  among  the  Arabs.  I  caught  a  watery  view 
of  the  gray  cliffs  of  the  Needles,  when  dinner  was  announced, 
but  many  were  those  (and  I  among  them)  who  commenced 
that  meal,  and  did  not  stay  to  finish  it. 

Is  there  any  piece  of  water  more  unreasonably,  distressingly, 
disgustingly  rough  and  perverse  than  the  British  Channel? 
Ves :  there  is  one,  and  but  one — the  Bay  of  Biscay.  And  as 
the  latter  succeeds  the  former,  without  a  pause  between,  and 
tlie  head-winds  never  ceased,  and  the  rain  continually  poured, 
I  leave  you  to  draw  the  climax  of  my  misery.  Four  days  and 
four  nights  in  a  berth,  lying  on  your  back,  now  dozing  dull 
hour  after  hour,  now  making  faint  endeavors  to  eat,  or  reading 
the  feeblest  novel  ever  written,  because  the  mind  cannot  digest 
stronger  aliment — can  there  be  a  greater  contrast  to  the  wide- 
awake life,  the  fiery  inspiration,  of  the  Orient  ?  My  blood 
Dccarae  so  sluggish  and  my  mind  so  cloudy  and  befogged,  that 
I  despaired  of  ever  thinking  clearly  or  feeling  vividly  again. 
"The  winds  are  rude"  in  Biscay,  Byron  says.  They  are, 
indeed  :  very  rude.  They  must  have  been  raised  in  some  most 
disorderly  quarter  of  the  globe.  They  pitched  the  waves  right 
over  our  bulwarks,  and  now  and  then  dashed  a  bucketful  of 
water  down  the  cabin  skylight,  swamping  the  ladies'  cabin,  and 
setting  scores  of  bandboxes  afloat.     Not  that  there  was  the 

n 


886  THE    LANDS    OF    THE     SARACEN, 

least  actual  danger ;  but  Mrs. would  not  be  persuaded 

that  "vre  were  not  on  the  brink  of  destruction,  and  wrote  to 
friends  at  home  a  voluminous  account  of  her  feelings.  There 
was  an  Irishman  on  board,  bound  to  Italy,  with  his  sister.  It 
was  his  first  tour,  and  when  asked  why  he  did  not  go  direct, 
through  France,  he  replied,  with  brotherly  concern,  that  he 
was  anxious  his  sister  should  see  the  Bay  of  Biscay. 

This  youth's  perceptions  were  of  such  an  emerald  hue,  that 
a  lot  of  wicked  Englishmen  had  their  own  fun  out  of  him. 
The  other  day,  he  was  trying  to  shave,  to  the  great  danger  of 
slicing  off  his  nose,  as  the  vessel  was  rolling  fearfully.  "  Why 
don't  you  have  the  ship  headed  to  the  wind  ?"  said  one  of  the 
Englishmen,  who  heard  his  complaints  ;  "  she  will  then  lie 
steady,  and  you  can  shave  beautifully."  Thereupon  the  Irish* 
man  sent  one  of  the  stewards  upon  deck  with  a  polite  messago 
to  the  captain,  begging  him  to  put  the  vessel  about  for  five 
minutes. 

Towards  noon  of  the  fifth  day,  we  saw  the  dark,  rugged 
mountains  that  guard  the  north-western  corner  of  the  Spanish 
Peninsula.  We  passed  the  Bay  of  Corunna,  and  rourding  the 
bold  headland  of  Finisterre,  left  the  Biscayan  billovs  behind 
us.  But  the  sea  was  still  rough  and  the  sky  clouded,  although 
the  next  morning  the  mildness  of  the  air  showed  the  change  in 
our  latitude.  About  noon  that  day,  we  made  the  Burlings,  a 
cluster  of  rocks  forty  miles  north  of  Lisbon,  and  just  before 
sunset,  a  transient  lifting  of  the  clouds  revealed  the  Rock  of 
Cintra,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tagus.  The  tall,  perpendicular 
cliffs,  and  the  mountain  slopes  behind,  covered  with  gardens, 
orchards,  and  scattered  villas  and  hamlets,  made  a  g»'and 
though  dim  picture,  which  was  soon  hidden  from  our  view. 


lANDINO     AT     GIBRAI.TAK. 


38  i 


On  the  4th,  we  were  nearly  all  day  crossing  the  month  of 
the  Bay  of  Cadiz,  and  only  at  sunset  saw  Cape  Trafalgar  afai 
off,  glimmering  through  the  reddish  haze.  I  remained  on  deck, 
as  there  were  patches  of  starlight  in  the  sky.  After  passing 
tiie  liglit-house  at  Tarifa,  the  Spanish  shore  continued  to  be 
visible.  In  another  hour,  there  was  a  dim,  cloudy  outline  high 
above  the  horizon,  on  our  right.  This  was  tlie  Lesser  Atlas, 
in  Morocco.  And  now,  right  ahead,  distinctly  visible,  though 
fifteen  miles  distant,  lay  a  colossal  lion,  with  his  head  on  hia 
outstretched  paws,  looking  towards  Africa.  If  I  bad  been 
brought  to  the  spot  blindfolded,  I  should  have  known  what  it 
was.  The  resemblance  is  certainly  very  striking,  and  the  light- 
house on  Europa  Point  seemed  to  be  a  lamp  held  in  his  paws. 
The  lights  of  the  city  and  fortifications  rose  one  by  one,  glit- 
tering along  the  base,  and  at  midnight  we  dropped  anchor 
before  them  on  the  western  side. 

I  landed  yesterday  morning.  The  mists,  which  had  followed 
me  from  England,  had  collected  behind  the  Rock,  and  the  sun, 
still  hidden  by  its  huge  bulk,  shone  upwards  through  them, 
making  a  luminous  background,  against  which  the  lofty  walls 
and  jagged  ramparts  of  this  tremendous  natural  fortification 
were  clearly  defined.  I  announced  my  name,  and  the  length 
of  time  I  designed  remaining,  at  a  little  office  on  the  quay,  and 
was  then  allowed  to  pass  into  the  city.  A  number  of  familiar 
white  turbans  met  me  on  entering,  and  I  could  not  resist  tho 
temptation  of  cordially  saluting  the  owners  in  their  own  lan- 
guage. The  town  is  long  and  narrow,  lying  steeply  against 
the  Rock.  The  houses  are  white,  yellow  and  pink,  as  ia 
Bpauish  towns,  but  the  streets  are  clean  and  well  paved. 
There  is  a  square,  about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  building-lot, 


888  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN-, 

where  a  sort  of  market  of  dry  goods  and  small  articles  is  held 
The  "  Club-House  Hotel "  occupies  one  side  of  it ;  and,  as  1 
look  out  of  my  window  upon  it,  I  see  the  topmost  cliffs  of  th« 
Rock  above  me,  threatening  to  topple  down  from  a  height  of 
1,500  feet 

My  first  walk  in  Gibraltar  was  in  search  of  a  palm-tree 
A-fter  threading  the  whole  length  of  the  town,  I  found  two 
small  ones  in  a  garden,  in  the  bottom  of  the  old  moat.  The 
sun  was  shining,  and  his  rays  seemed  to  fall  with  double 
warmth  on  their  feathery  crests.  Three  brown  Spaniards 
bare-armed,  were  drawing  water  with  a  pole  and  bucket,  and 
filling  the  little  channels  which  conveyed  it  to  the  distant  vege- 
tables. The  sea  glittered  blue  below ;  an  Indian  fig-tree 
shaded  me  ;  but,  on  the  rock  behind,  an  aloe  lifted  its  blossom- 
ing stem,  some  twenty  feet  high,  into  the  sunshine.  To 
describe  what  a  weight  was  lifted  from  my  heart  would  seem 
foolish  to  those  who  do  not  know  on  what  little  things  the 
whole  tone  of  our  spirits  sometimes  depends. 

But  if  an  even  balance  was  restored  yesterday,  the  opposite 
scale  kicked  the  beam  this  morning.  Not  a  speck  of  vapor 
blurred  the  spotless  crystal  of  the  sky,  as  I  walked  along  the 
hanging  paths  of  the  Alameda.  The  sea  was  dazzling  ultra- 
marine, with  a  purple  lustre  ;  every  crag  and  notch  of  the 
mountains  across  the  bay,  every  shade  of  brown  or  gray,  or 
the  green  of  grassy  patches,  was  drawn  and  tinted  with  a 
pencil  so  exquisitely  delicate  as  almost  to  destroy  the  perspect- 
ive. The  white  houses  of  Algeciras,  five  miles  off,  appeared 
close  at  hand  :  a  little  toy-town,  backed  by  miniature  hills. 
Apes'  Hill,  the  ancient  Abyla,  in  Africa,  advanced  to  mee< 
Calpe,  its  opposing  pillar,  and  Atlas  swept  away  to  the  eaa*- 


THE     CONVEXITY     OF     THE     E  V.RTII.  88& 

ward,  its  blue  becoming  paler  and  paler,  till  the  powers  of 
vision  finally  failed.  From  the  top  of  the  southern  poiiit  of 
tho  Rock,  I  saw  the  mountain-sbore  of  Spain,  as  far  as  Malaga 
and  the  snowy  top  of  one  of  the  Sierra  Nevada.  Looking 
eastward  to  the  horizon  line  of  the  Mediterranean,  ray  sig-bl 
extended  so  far,  in  the  wonderful  clearness  of  the  air,  that  tho 
convexity  of  the  earth's  surface  was  plainly  to  be  seen.  The 
sea,  instead  of  being  a  plane,  was  slightly  convex,  and  the  sky, 
instead  of  resting  upon  it  at  the  horizon,  curved  down  beyond 
it,  as  the  upper  side  of  a  horn  curves  over  the  lower,  when  one 
looks  into  the  mouth.  There  is  none  of  the  many  aspects  of 
Nature  more  grand  than  this,  which  is  so  rarely  seen,  that  I 
believe  the  only  person  who  has  ever  described  it  is  Humboldt, 
who  saw  it,  looking  from  the  Silla  de  Caraccas  over  the  Carib- 
bean Sea.  It  gives  you  the  impression  of  standing  on  the  edge 
of  the  earth,  and  looking  off  into  space.  From  the  mast-head, 
the  ocean  appears  either  flat  or  slightly  concave,  and  aeronauts 
declare  that  this  apparent  concavity  becomes  more  marked,  the 
higher  they  ascend.  It  is  only  at  those  rare  periods  when  the 
air  is  so  miraculously  clear  as  to  produce  the  effect  of  no  air — 
rendering  impossible  the  slightest  optical  illusion — that  our 
eyes  can  see  things  as  they  really  are.  So  pure  was  the  atmo- 
sphere to-day,  that,  at  meridian,  the  moon,  although  a  thin 
sickle,  three  days  distant  from  the  sun,  shone  perfectly  white 
and  dear. 

As  I  loitered  in  the  Alameda,  between  thick  hedges  of  ever 
blooming  geraniums,  clumps  of  heliolroi)e  three  feet  high,  and 
luxuriant  masses  of  ivy,  around  whose  warm  flowers  the  beoa 
clustered  and  hummed,  I  could  only  think  of  the  voyage  as  a 
hideous  dream.     The  fog  and  gloom  had  been  in  my  own  eyea 


390  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

and  in  my  own  brain,  and  now  the  blessed  sun,  shining  fall  ia 
my  face,  awoke  me.  I  am  a  worshipper  of  the  Sun.  I  took 
ofif  my  hat  to  him,  as  I  stood  there^  in  a  wilderness  of  white, 
crimson,  and  purple  flowers,  and  let  him  blaze  away  in  my  face 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  And  as  I  walked  home  with  my 
hack  to  him,  I  often  turned  my  face  from  side  to  side  that  I 
might  feel  his  touch  on  my  cheek.  How  a  man  can  live,  who 
is  sentenced  to  a  year's  imprisonment,  is  more  than  I  can 
understand. 

But  all  this  (you  will  say)  gives  you  no  picture  of  Gibral- 
tar. The  Rock  is  so  familiar  to  all  the  world,  in  prints  and 
descriptions,  that  I  fini  nothing  new  to  say  of  it,  except  that 
it  is  by  no  means  so  barren  a  rock  as  the  island  of  Malta, 
being  clothed,  in  many  places,  with  beautiful  groves  and  the 
greenest  turf ;  besides,  I  have  not  yet  seen  the  rock-galleries, 
having  taken  passage  for  Cadiz  this  afternoon.  When  I 
return — as  I  hope  to  do  in  twenty  days,  after  visiting  Seville 
and  Granada — I  shall  procure  permission  to  view  all  the  forti- 
fications, and  likewise  to  ascend  to  the  summit. 


TOYAOS     TO     CADIZ.  391 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

CADIZ      AND      SEVILLE. 

Tovaji  to  Cadii— Landing— The  City— Its  Streets— The  Women  o    Cadiz— Embaik»- 
tlon  for  Seville — Scenery  of  the  Guadalquivir — Custom  House    Examination — ThI 
Guide— The  Streets  of  Seville— The  Giralda— The  Cathedral  of  Seville— The  Alcaiar- 
Monrish  Architecture — Pilate's  House — Morning  View  from  the  Giralda — Old  Wine 
Murillos — My  Last  Evening  in  Seville. 

"The  walls  of  Cadii  front  the  shore, 

Andshiisriier  o'er  the  sea."  R.  H.  STODDiED. 

"  Beautiful  Seville  ! 
Of  which  I've  dreH!:""i,  until  I  saw  its  towers 
In  every  cloud  that  hid  the  setting  sun."  George  H.  Boker. 

Sktillb,  November  10, 1862. 

I  LEFT  Gibraltar  on  tbe  evening  of  the  6th,  in  the  steamer 
Iberia.  The  passage  to  Cadiz  was  made  in  nine  hours,  and  we 
came  to  anchor  in  the  harbor  before  day-break.  It  was  a  cheer- 
ful picture  that  the  rising  sun  presented  to  us.  The  long  white 
front  of  the  city,  facing  the  East,  glowed  with  a  bright  rosy 
lustre,  on  a  ground  of  the  clearest  blue.  The  tongue  of  land 
on  which  Cadiz  stands  is  low,  but  the  houses  are  lifted  by  the 
heavy  sea-wall  which  encompasses  them.  The  main-land  con- 
sists of  a  range  of  low  but  graceful  hills,  while  in  the  south- 
east the  mountains  of  Honda  rise  at  some  distance.  I  went 
immediately  on  shore,  where  my  carpet-bag  was  seized  upoa 


59*i  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     S4RACEN. 

by  a  boy,  with  the  rich  brown  complexion  of  one  of 
Murillo's  beggars,  who  trudged  off  with  it  to  the  gate; 
After  some  little  detention  there,  I  was  conducted  to  a  long, 
deserted,  barn-like  building,  where  I  waited  half  an  hour  before 
the  proper  officer  came.  When  the  latter  had  taken  his  private 
toll  of  my  contraband  cigars,  the  brown  imp  conducted  me  to 
Blanco's  English  Hotel,  a  neat  and  comfortable  house  on  the 
Alameda. 

Cadiz  is  soon  seen.  Notwithstanding  its  venerable  age  of 
three  thousand  years — having  been  founded  by  Hercules,  who 
figures  on  its  coat-of-arms — it  is  purely  a  commercial  city,  and 
has  neither  antiquities,  nor  historic  associations  that  interest 
any  but  Englishmen.  It  is  compactly  built,  and  covers  a 
smaller  space  than  accords  with  my  ideas  of  its  former  splen- 
dor. I  first  walked  around  the  sea-raraparts,  enjoying  the 
glorious  look-off  over  the  blue  waters.  The  city  is  almost  in- 
sulated, the  triple  line  of  fortifications  on  the  land  side  being 
of  but  trifling  length.  A  rocky  ledge  stretches  out  into  the 
sea  from  the  northern  point,  and  at  its  extremity  rises  the  mas- 
sive light-house  tower,  170  feet  high.  The  walls  toward  the  sea 
were  covered  with  companies  of  idle  anglers,  fishing  with  cane 
rods  of  enormous  length.  On  the  open,  waste  spaces  between 
the  bastions,  boys  had  spread  their  limed  cords  to  catch  singing 
birds,  with  chirping  decoys  placed  here  and  there  in  wicker 
cages.  Numbers  of  boatmen  and  peasants,  in  their  brown 
jackets,  studded  with  tags  and  bugles,  and  those  round  black 
caps  which  resemble  smashed  bandboxes,  loitered  about  the 
walls  or  lounged  on  the  grass  in  the  sun. 

Except  along  the  Alameda,  which  fronts  the  bay,  the  exto 
rior  of  the  city  has  an  aspect  of  neglect  and  deseitioa     The 


CADIZ. 


893 


interior,  however,  atones  for  this  in  the  gay  and  lively  air  of  it3 
streets,  ^liich,  though  narrow,  are  regular  and  charmingly 
clean.  The  small  plazas  are  neatness  itself,  and  one  is  too  con- 
tent with  this  to  ask  for  striking  architectural  effects.  The 
houses  are  tall  and  stately,  of  the  most  dazzling  whiteness,  and 
though  you  could  point  out  no  one  as  a  pattern  of  style,  the  gene- 
ra, etfect  is  chaste  and  harmonious.  In  fact,  there  are  two  or 
three  streets  which  you  would  almost  pronounce  faultless.  The 
numbers  of  hanging  balconies  and  of  court-yards  paved  with  mar- 
ble and  surrounded  with  elegant  corridors,  show  the  influence  of 
Moorish  taste.  There  is  not  a  mean-looking  house  to  be  seen, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  Cadiz  is  the  best  built  city  of  its  size 
in  the  world.  It  lies,  white  as  new-fallen  snow,  like  a  cluster 
of  ivory  palaces,  between  sea  and  sky.  Blue  and  silver  are  its 
colors,  and,  as  everybody  knows,  there  can  be  no  more  charm- 
ing contrast. 

I  visited  both  the  old  and  new  cathedrals,  neither  of  wliich 
'.c5  particularly  interesting.  The  latter  is  unfinished,  and  might 
have  been  a  fine  edifice  had  the  labor  and  money  expended  on 
its  construction  been  directed  by  taste.  The  interior,  rich  as 
it  is  in  marbles  and  sculpture,  has  a  heavy,  confused  effect. 
The  pillars  dividing  the  nave  from  the  side-aislet  »re  enormou.=i 
composite  masses,  each  one  consisting  of  six  Corinthian  columns, 
stuck  around  and  against  a  central  shaft.  More  satisfactory 
to  me  was  the  Opera-IIouse,  which  I  visited  in  the  evening, 
and  where  the  dazzling  array  of  dark-eyed  Gaditanas  put  a 
stop  to  architectural  criticism.  The  women  of  Cadiz  are  noted 
for  their  beauty  and  their  graceful  gait.  Some  of  thera  are 
very  beautiful,  it  is  true  ;  but  beauty  is  not  the  rule  among 
them.      Their  gait,  however,  is  the  most  graceful  possible 


394:  ThE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN. 

Decanse  it  is  perfectly  free  and  natural.  The  commonest  serv' 
jng-maid  who  walks  the  streets  of  Cadiz  would  put  to  shame  a 
whole  score  of  our  mincing  and  wriggling  belles. 

Honest  old  Blanco  prepared  me  a  cup  of  chocolate  by  sun- 
rise next  morning,  and  accompanied  me  down  to  the  quay,  to 
embark  for  Seville.  A  furious  wind  was  blowing  from  the 
southeast,  and  the  large  green  waves  raced  and  chased  one 
another  incessantly  over  the  surface  of  the  bay.  I  took  a 
heavy  craft,  which  the  boatmen  pushed  along  under  cover  of 
the  pier,  until  they  reached  the  end,  when  the  sail  was  dropped 
in  the  face  of  the  wind,  and  away  we  shot  into  the  watery 
tumult.  The  boat  rocked  and  bounced  over  the  agitated  sur- 
face, running  with  one  gunwale  on  the  waves,  and  sheets  of 
briny  spray  broke  over  me.  I  felt  considerably  relieved  when 
I  reached  the  deck  of  the  steamer,  but  it  was  then  diversion 
enough  to  watch  those  who  followed.  Tlie  crowd  of  boats 
pitching  tumultuously  around  the  steamer,  jostling  against  each 
other,  their  hulls  gleaming  with  wet,  as  they  rose  on  the  beryl- 
colored  waves,  striped  with  long,  curded  lines  of  wind-blown 
foam,  would  have  made  a  fine  subject  for  the  pencil  of  Achen- 
bach. 

At  last  we  pushed  off,  with  a  crowd  of  passengers  fore  and 
aft,  and  a  pyramid  of  luggage  piled  around  the  smoke-pipe. 
There  was  a  party  of  four  Englishmen  on  board,  and,  on  mak- 
ing their  acquaintance,  I  found  one  of  them  to  be  a  friend  to 
Bome  of  my  friends— Sir  John  Potter,  the  progressive  ex 
Mayor  of  Manchester.  The  wind  being  astern,  we  ran  rapidly 
along  the  coast,  and  in  two  hours  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
Guadalquivir.  [This  name  comes  from  the  Arabic  wadt 
d-keleer—\\U:TQ]\j,  the  Great  Val'oy.]     The  shores  are  a  dead 


8CKWERY     OF     THE    GUADALQUIVIR.  395 

flat  The  right  bank  is  a  dreary  forest  of  stunted  pines,  abound 
ing  with  deer  and  other  game  ;  on  the  left  is  the  dilapidated 
town  of  San  Lucar,  whence  Magellan  set  sail  on  his  first  voy- 
age around  the  world.  A  mile  further  is  Bonanza,  the  port 
of  Xeres,  where  we  touched  and  took  on  board  a  fresh  lot  of 
passengers.  Thenceforth,  for  four  hours,  the  scenery  of  the 
Guadalquivir  had  a  most  distressing  sameness.  The  banks 
were  as  flat  as  a  board,  with  here  and  there  a  straggling 
growth  of  marshy  thickets.  Now  and  then  we  passed  a  herds- 
man's hut,  but  there  were  no  human  beings  to  be  seen,  except 
the  peasants  who  tended  the  large  flocks  of  sheep  and  cattle. 
A  sort  of  breakfast  was  served  in  the  cabin,  but  so  great  was 
the  number  of  guests  that  I  had  much  difficulty  in  getting 
anything  to  eat.  The  waiters  were  models  of  calmness  and 
deliberation. 

As  we  approached  Seville,  some  low  hills  appeared  on  the 
left,  near  the  river.  Dazzling  white  villages  were  planted  at 
their  foot,  and  all  the  slopes  were  covered  with  olive  orchards, 
while  the  banks  of  the  stream  were  bordered  with  silvery  birch 
trees.  This  gave  the  landscape,  in  spite  of  the  African 
warmth  and  brightness  of  the  day,  a  gray  and  almost  wintry 
aspect.  Soon  the  graceful  Giralda,  or  famous  Tower  of 
Seville,  arose  in  the  distance  ;  but,  from  the  windings  of  the 
river,  we  were  half  an  hour  in  reaching  the  landing-place. 
One  sees  nothing  of  the  far-famed  beauty  of  Seville,  on 
approaching  it.  The  boat  stops  below  tlie  Alameda,  where 
the  passengers  are  received  by  Custom-House  officers,  who,  in 
my  case,  did  not  verify  the  stories  told  of  them  in  Cadiz,  I 
gave  my  carpet-bag  to  a  boy,  who  conducted  me  along  the  hot 
and  dusty  banks  to  the  bridge  over  the  Guadalquivir,  where 


396  THE     LANDS    -O?    THE     SARACEN. 

he  turned  into  the  city.  On  passing  the  gate,  two  loafer-lik« 
guards  stopped  my  baggage,  notwithstanding  it  had  already 
been  examined.  "  What  I"  said  I,  "  do  you  examine  twice  on 
entering  Seville  ?"  "  Yes,"  answered  one  ;  "  twice,  and  even 
three  times  ;"  but  added  in  a  lower  tone,  "  it  depends  entirely 
on  yourself."  With  that  he  slipped  behind  me,  and  let  ona 
hand  fall  beside  my  pocket.  The  transfer  of  a  small  coin  was 
dexterously  made,  and  I  passed  on  without  further  stoppage 
to  the  Fonda  de  Madrid. 

Sir  John  Potter  engaged  Antonio  Bailli,  the  noted  guide  of 
Seville,  who  professes  to  have  been  the  cicerone  of  all  distin- 
guished travellers,  from  Lord  Byron  and  Washington  Irving 
down  to  Owen  Jones,  and  I  readily  accepted  his  invitation  to 
join  the  party.  Bailli  is  recommended  by  Ford  as  "  fat  and 
good-humored  "  Fat  he  certainly  is,  and  very  good-humored 
when  speaking  of  himself,  but  he  has  been  rather  spoiled 
by  popularity,  and  is  much  too  profuse  in  his  critical  remarks 
on  art  and  architecture.  Nevertheless,  as  my  stay  in  Seville 
is  limited,  I  have  derived  no  slight  advantage  from  his  ser- 
vices. 

On  the  first  morning  I  took  an  early  stroll  through  the 
streets.  The  houses  are  glaringly  white,  like  those  of  Cadiz, 
but  are  smaller  and  have  not  the  same  stately  exteriors.  The 
windows  are  protected  by  iron  gratings,  of  florid  patterns, 
and,  as  many  of  these  are  painted  green,  the  general  effect  is 
pleasing.  Almost  every  door  opens  upon  a  patio,  or  court- 
yard, paved  with  black  and  white  marble  and  adorned  with 
flowers  and  fountains.  Many  of  these  remain  from  the  time  of 
the  Moors,  and  are  still  surrounded  by  the  delicate  arches  and 
brilliant  tile-work  of  that  period.     The  populace  in  the  streets 


THE     GIRALDA.  397 

are  entiroly  Spanish — the  jaunty  majo  in  his  queer  black  cap. 
Bash,  and  embroidered  jacket,  and  the  nut-brown,  dark-oyed 
damsel,  sv/imming:  along  in  her  mantilla,  and  armed  with  the 
irresistible  fan. 

We  went  first  to  the  Cathedral,  built  on  the  site  of  the 
great  mosque  of  Abou  Youssuf  Yakoub.  The  tall  Giralda 
beckoned  to  us  over  the  tops  of  the  intervening  buildings,  and 
finally  a  turn  in  the  street  brought  us  to  the  ancient  Moorish 
gateway  on  the  northern  side.  This  is  an  admirable  specimen  of 
the  horse-shoe  arch,  and  is  covered  with  elaborate  tracery.  It 
originally  opened  into  the  court,  or  haravi,  of  the  mosque, 
which  still  remains,  and  is  shaded  by  a  grove  of  orange  trees. 
The  Giralda,  to  my  eye,  is  a  more  perfect  tower  than  the  Cam- 
panile of  Florence,  or  that  of  San  Marco,  at  Venice,  which  is 
evidently  an  idea  borrowed  from  it.  The  Moorish  structure, 
with  a  base  of  fifty  feet  square,  rises  to  the  height  of  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet.  It  is  of  a  light  pink  color,  and  the  sides, 
which  are  broken  here  and  there  by  exquisitely  proportioned 
double  Saracenic  arches,  are  covered  from  top  to  bottom  with 
arabesque  tracery,  cut  in  strong  relief.  Upon  this  tower,  a 
Spanish  architect  has  placed  a  tapering  spire,  one  hundred  feet 
high,  which  fortunately  harmonizes  with  the  general  design, 
and  gives  the  crowning  grace  to  the  work. 

The  Cathedral  of  Seville  may  rank  as  one  of  the  grandest 
Gothic  piles  in  Europe.  The  nave  lacks  but  five  feet  of  being 
as  liigh  as  that  of  St.  Peter's,  while  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  edifice  are  on  a  commensurate  scale.  The  ninety-three 
A'indows  of  stained  glass  fill  the  interior  with  a  soft  and  richly- 
tinted  light,  mellower  and  more  gentle  than  the  sombre  twi- 
lignt    of    the    Gothic    Cathedrals    of    Europe.     Thu   wealth 


398  THE  LANDS  01     THE  SARACEN. 

lavished  on  the  smaller  chapels  and  shrines  is  prodigious,  aad 
the  high  altar,  inclosed  within  a  gilded  railing  fifty  feet  high,  ia 
probably  tlie  most  enormous  mass  of  wood-carving  in  existence. 
The  Cathedral,  in  fact,  is  encumbered  with  its  riches.  While 
they  bewilder  you  as  monuments  of  human  labor  aad  patience, 
they  detract  from  the  grand  simplicity  of  the  building.  The 
great  nave,  on  each  side  of  the  transept,  is  quite  blocked  up,  so 
that  the  choir  and  magnificent  royal  chapel  behind  it  have 
almost  the  efifect  of  detached  edifices. 

"We  returned  again  this  morning,  remaining  two  hours,  and 
succeeded  in  making  a  thorough  survey,  including  a  number  of 
trashy  pictures  and  barbarously  rich  shrines.  Murillo's 
"  Guardian  Angel"  and  the  "  Vision  of  St.  Antonio  "  are  the 
only  gems.  The  treasury  contains  a  number  of  sacred  vessels 
of  silver,  gold  and  jewels — among  other  tilings,  the  keys  of 
Moorish  Seville,  a  cross  made  of  the  first  gold  brought  from 
the  New-World  by  Columbus,  and  another  from  that  robbed 
in  Mexico  by  Cortez.  The  Cathedral  won  my  admiration 
more  and  more.  The  placing  of  the  numerous  windows,  and 
their  rich  coloring,  produce  the  most  glorious  efi'ects  of  light  in 
the  lofty  aisles,  and  one  is  constantly  finding  new  vistas,  new 
combinations  of  pillar,  arch  and  shrine.  The  building  is  iu 
itself  a  treasury  of  the  grandest  Gothic  pictures. 

From  the  Cathedral  we  went  to  the  Alcazar  {El-Kasr),  or 
I  alace  of  the  Moorish  Kings.  We  entered  by  a  long  passage, 
with  round  arches  on  either  side,  resting  on  twin  pillars,  placed 
at  right  angles  to  the  line  of  the  arch,  as  one  sees  both  in 
Saracenic  and  Byzantine  structures.  Finally,  old  Bailli 
brought  us  into  a  dull,  deserted  court-yard,  where  we  wjre 
gurpriscd  by  the  s'ght  of  an  entire  Moorish  fa9ade,  with  it* 


THE     ALCAZAR.  399 

poiutcd  arches,  its  projecting  roof,  its  rich  sculptured  ornainentfl 
and  its  illuminations  of  red,  blue,  green  and  gold.  It  has  been 
lately  restored,  and  now  rivals  in  freshness  and  brilliancy  any 
of  the  rich  houses  of  Damascus.  A  doorway,  entirely  too  lew 
and  mean  for  the  splendor  of  the  walls  above  it,  admitted  us  into 
the  first  court.  Ou  each  side  of  the  passage  are  the  rooms  of 
the  guard  and  the  Moorish  nobles.  Within,  all  is  pure 
Saracenic,  and  absolutely  perfect  in  its  grace  and  richness.  It 
is  the  realization  of  an  Oriental  dream  ;  it  is  the  poetry  and 
luxury  of  the  East  in  tangible  forms.  Where  so  much  depends 
on  the  proportion  and  harmony  of  the  different  parts — on  those 
correspondences,  the  union  of  which  creates  that  nameless  soul 
of  the  work,  which  cannot  be  expressed  in  words — it  is  useless 
to  describe  details.  From  first  to  last — the  chambers  of  state  ; 
the  fringed  arches  ;  the  open  tracery,  light  and  frail  as  the 
frost-stars  crystallized  on  a  window-pane  ;  the  courts,  fit  to  be 
vestibules  to  Paradise  ;  the  audience-hall,  with  its  wondrous 
sculptures,  its  columns  and  pavement  of  marble,  and  its  gilded 
dome  ;  the  garden,  gorgeous  with  its  palm,  banana,  and 
orange-trees — all  were  in  perfect  keeping,  all  jewels  of  equal 
lustre,  forming  a  diadem  which  still  lends  a  royal  dignity  to  the 
phantom  of  Moorish  power. 

We  then  passed  into  the  gardens  laid  out  by  the  Spanish 
monarchs — trim,  mathematical  designs,  in  box  and  myrtle, 
with  concealed  fountains  springing  up  everywhere  unawares 
In  the  midst  of  the  paven  walks ;  yet  still  made  beautiful 
by  the  roses  and  jessamines  that  hung  in  rank  clu.'-.ters  over  th» 
marble  balustrades,  and  by  the  clumps  of  tall  orange  trees, 
bending  to  earth  under  the  weight  of  their  fruitage.  We 
afterward  visited  Pilate's  House,  as  it  is  called — a  fine  Span 


400  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

ish-Moresco  palace,  now  belonging  to  the  Duke  of  Medint 
Coeli.  It  is  very  rich  and  elegant^  but  stands  in  the  same 
relation  to  the  Alcazar  as  a  good  copy  does  to  the  originaj 
picture.  The  grand  staircase,  nevertheless,  is  a  marvel  of  tile 
work,  unlike  anything  else  in  Seville,  and  exhibits  a  genius  in 
t.he  invention  of  elaborate  ornamental  patterns,  which  is  truly 
wonderful.  A  number  of  workmen  were  busy  in  restoring  the 
palace,  to  fit  it  for  the  residence  of  the  young  Duke.  Tlie 
Moorish  sculptures  are  reproduced  in  plaster,  which,  at  least, 
has  a  better  effect  than  the  fatal  whitewash  under  which  the 
original  tints  of  the  Alcazar  are  hidden.  In  the  courts  stand  a 
number  of  Roman  busts — Spanish  antiquities,  and  therefore 
not  of  great  merit — singularly  out  of  place  in  niches  sur- 
rounded by  Arabic  devices  and  sentences  from  the  Koran. 

This  morning,  I  climbed  the  Giralda.  The  sun  had  just 
risen,  and  the  day  was  fresh  and  crystal-clear.  A  little  door 
in  the  Cathedral,  near  the  foot  of  the  tower,  stood  open,  and  I 
entered.  A  rather  slovenly  Sevillaiia  had  just  completed  her 
toilet,  but  two  children  were  still  in  undress.  However,  she 
opened  a  door  in  the  tower,  and  I  went  up  without  hindrance. 
The  ascent  is  by  easy  ramps,  and  I  walked  four  hundred  yards, 
or  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  before  reaching  the  top  of  the 
Moorish  part.  The  panoramic  view  was  superb.  To  the  east 
and  west,  the  Great  Valley  made  a  level  line  on  a  far-distant 
horizon.  There  were  ranges  of  hills  in  the  north  and  south, 
and  those  rising  near  the  city,  clothed  in  a  gray  mantle  of  olive- 
trees,  were  picturesquely  crowned  with  villages.  The  Guadal- 
quivir, winding  in  the  most  sinuous  mazes,  had  no  longer  a 
turbid  hue  ;  he  reflected  the  blue  morning  sky,  and  gleamed 
brightly  between  his  borders  of  birch  and  willow.      Seville 


OLD     WINES — MURIU.OS.  401 

iparkled  white  and  fair  under  ray  feet,  lier  painted  towers  and 
tiled  domes  rising  thickly  out  of  the  mass  of  biiihlings.  The 
level  Run  tlirew  sliadows  into  the  numberless  courts,  permitting 
the  mixture  of  Spanish  and  Moorish  arcliitecture  to  be  plainly 
discerned,  even  at  that  height.  A  thin  golden  vapor  suftened 
the  features  of  the  landscape,  towards  the  sun,  while,  on  the 
opposite  side,  every  object  stood  out  in  the  sharpest  and 
clearest  outlines. 

On  our  way  to  the  Museo,  Bailli  took  us  to  the  house  of  a 
friend  of  his,  in  order  that  we  might  taste  real  Munzanilla 
wine.  This  is  a  pale,  straw-colored  vintage,  produced  in  the 
valley  of  the  Guadalquivir.  It  is  flavored  with  camomile 
blossoms,  and  is  said  to  be  a  fine  tonic  for  weak  stomachs 
The  master  then  produced  a  dark-red  wine,  which  he  declared 
to  be  thirty  years  old.  It  was  almost  a  syrup  in  consistence, 
and  tasted  more  of  sarsaparilla  than  grapes.  None  of  us 
relished  it,  except  Bailli,  who  was  so  inspired  by  the  draught, 
ths-t  he  sang  us  two  Moorish  songs  and  an  Andalusiau  catch, 
full  of  fun  and  drollery. 

The  Museo  contains  a  great  amount  of  bad  pictures,  but  it 
also  contains  twenty-three  of  Murillo's  works,  many  of  them 
of  liis  best  period.  To  those  who  have  only  seen  his  tender, 
Bpiritual  "Conceptions"  and  "Assumptions,"  his  "Vision  of 
St.  Francis"  in  this  gallery  reveals  a  mastery  of  the  higher 
walks  of  his  art,  which  they  would  not  have  anticipated.  But 
it  is  in  his  "  Cherubs"  and  his  "  Infant  Clirists"  that  he  excels. 
No  one  ever  painted  infantile  grace  and  beauty  with  so  true  a 
pencil.  There  is  but  one  Velasquez  in  the  collection,  SMd  the 
only  thing  that  interested  me,  in  two  halls  fdled  with  rubbish, 
was  a  ''Conception"  by  Murillo's  mulatto  pupil,  said  by  some 


402  THE  LANDS  OP  THE  SARACEK 

to  have  been  his  slave.  Although  aa  imitation  of  the  great 
master,  it  is  a  picture  of  much  sweetuess  and  beauty.  Theri 
\s  no  other  work  of  the  artist  in  existence,  and  this,  as  tha 
only  production  of  the  kind  by  a  painter  of  mixed  African 
blood,  ought  to  belong  to  the  Republic  of  Liberia. 

Among  the  other  guests  at  the  Fonda  de  Madrid  is  Mr. 
Thomas  Ilobhouse,  brother  of  Byron's  friend.  We  had  a 
pleasant  party  in  the  Court  this  evening,  listening  to  blind 
Pepe,  who  sang  to  his  guitar  a  medley  of  merry  Andalusian 
refrains.  Singing  made  the  old  man  courageous,  and,  at  the 
close,  he  gave  us  the  radical  song  of  Spain,  which  is  now 
Btrictly  prohibited.  The  air  is  charming,  but  too  gay  ;  one 
would  sooner  dance  than  fight  to  its  measures.  It  does  not 
bring  the  hand  to  the  sword,  like  the.  glorious  Marseillaise. 

Adios,  beautiful  Seville  1 


SPANISH     DILIGENCE     LINES-  403 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

JOORNE"?     IN     A     SPANISH     DILIGENCE. 

Bpanish  Diligence  Lines— Leaving  Seville — Ac  Unlucky  Start— Alcal4  of  the  Bakers-- 
Dinner  at  Carmona— A  Dehesa— The  Mayoral  and  his  Team— Ecija— Night  JourneJ 
—Cordova— The  Cathedral-Mosque — Moorish  Architecture— The  Sierra  Morena— A 
Rafny  Journey— A  Chapter  of  Accidents— Baylen— The  Fadcination  of  Spain— Jaen 
-The  Vega  of  Oranada. 

Obanada,  November  14, 1S63. 

It  is  an  enviable  sensation  to  feel  for  the  first  time  that  you 
are  in  Granada.  No  amount  of  travelling  can  weaken  the 
romantic  interest  which  clings  about  this  storied  place,  or  tako 
away  anght  from  the  freshness  of  that  emotion  with  which  yon 
first  behold  it.  I  sit  almost  at  the  foot  of  the  Alhambra, 
whose  walls  I  can  see  from  my  window,  quite  satisfied  for  to- 
day with  being  here.  It  has  been  raining  since  I  arrived,  the 
thunder  is  crashing  overhead,  and  the  mountains  are  covered 
with  clouds,  so  I  am  kept  in-doors,  with  the  luxury  of  knowing 
that  all  the  wonders  of  the  place  are  within  my  reach.  And 
now  let  me  beguile  the  dull  weatner  by  giving  you  a  sketch  of 
my  journey  from  Seville  hither. 

There  are  three  lines  of  stages  from  Seville  to  ^Madrid,  and 
their  competition  has  reduced  the  fare  to  $12,  which,  for  a  ride 
of  350  miles,  is  remarkably  cheap.  The  trip  is  usually  made 
In  three  days  and  a  half.     A  branch  line  from  Baylen — nearly 


404  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

half-way — strikes  southward  to  Granada,  and  as  there  is  nc 
competition  on  this  part  of  the  road,  I  was  charged  $15  for  a 
through  seat  in  the  coxbjpe.     On  account  of  the  lateness  of  the 
season,  and  the  limited  time  at  my  command,  this  was  prefer- 
able   to  taking   horses  and  riding   across   the  country  from 
Seville    to    Cordova.     Accordingly,    at    an    early    hour    on 
Thursday  morning   last,  furnished   with   a   travelling   ticket 
inscribed  :  "Don  Valtar  de  Talor  (myself  !),  I  took  leave  of 
my  English  friends   at  the  Fonda   de  Madrid,  got  into   an 
immense,  lumbering  yellow  vehicle,  drawn  by  ten  mules,  and 
started,  trusting  to  my  good  luck  and  bad  Spanish  to  get  safely 
through.    The  commencement,  however,  was  unpropitious,  and 
very  often  a  stumble  at  starting  makes  the  whole  journey  limp. 
The  near  mule  in  the  foremost  span  was  a  horse,  ridden  by  our 
postillion,  and  nothing  could  prevent  that  horse  from  darting 
into  all  sorts  of  streets  and  alleys  where  we  had  no  desire  to 
go.     As  all  mules  have  implicit  faith  in  horses,  of  course  the 
rest  of  the  animals  followed.     We  were  half  an  houj-  in  getting 
out  of  Seville,  and  when  at  last  we  reached  the  open  road  and 
dashed  off  at  full  gallop,  one  of  the  mules  in  the  traces  fell  and 
was  dragged  in  the  dust  some  twenty  or  thirty  yards  before 
we  could  stop.     My  companions  in  the  coupe  were  a  young 
Spanish  officer  and  his  pretty  Andalusian  bride,  who  was  mak- 
ino-  her  first  journey  from  home,  and  after  these  mishaps  waa 
ia  a  state  of  constant  fear  and  anxiety. 

The  first  stage  across  the  valley  of  the  Guadalquivir  took 
OS  to  the  town  of  Alcala,  which  lies  in  the  lap  of  the  hilla 
above  the  beautiful  little  river  Guadaira.  It  is  a  picturesque 
spot  ;  tlie  naked  cliffs  overhanging  tlie  stream  have  the  rich, 
red  hue  of  cinnabar,   and  the  trees  and   shrubbery  in   the 


DINNER     AT     CAKMONA.  408 

meadows,  and  on  the  bill-sitlcs  are  ready  grouped  to  the 
artist's  baud.  The  towu  is  called  Alcala  de  los  Pauadores 
(of  the  Bakers)  from  its  hundreds  of  flour  mills  and  bake- 
o?cns,  which  supply  Seville  with  those  white,  fine,  delicious 
twists,  of  which  Spain  may  be  justly  proud.  They  should 
have  been  sent  to  the  Exhibition  last  year,  with  the  Toledo 
blades  and  the  wooden  mosaics.  We  left  the  place  and  its 
mealy-headed  population,  and  turned  eastward  into  wide,  roll- 
ing tracts,  scattered  here  and  there  with  gnarled  olive  trees. 
The  soil  was  loose  and  sandy,  and  hedges  of  aloes  lined  the 
road.  The  country  is  thinly  populated,  and  very  little  of  it 
under  cultivation. 

About  noon  we  reached  Carmona,  which  was  founded  by 
the  Romans,  as,  indeed,  were  nearly  all  the  towns  of  Southern 
Spain.  It  occupies  the  crest  and  northern  slope  of  a  high 
hill,  whereon  the  ancient  Moorish  castle  still  stands.  The 
Alcazar,  or  palace,  and  the  Moorish  walls  also  remain, 
though  in  a  very  ruinous  condition.  Ilere  we  stopped  to 
dinner,  for  the  "  Nueva  Peninsular,"  in  which  I  was  embarked, 
has  its  hotels  all  along  the  route,  like  that  of  Zurutuza,  in 
Mexico.  We  were  conducted  into  a  small  room  adjoining  the 
Btables,  and  adorned  with  colored  prints  illustrating  the 
history  of  Don  John  of  Austria.  The  table-cloths,  plates  and 
other  appendages  were  of  very  ordinary  quality,  but  indispu- 
tably clean  ;  we  seated  ourselves,  and  presently  the  dinner 
appeared.  First,  a  vermicelli  pilaff,  which  I  found  palatable, 
then  the  national  oUa,  a  dish  of  enormous  yellow  peas, 
sprinkled  with  bits  of  bacon  and  flavored  with  oil  ;  then  three 
successive  courses  of  chicken,  boiled,  stewed  and  roasted,  but 
ia  every  case  done  to  rags,  and  without  a  particle  of  the  origv 


106  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

nal  flaTor.  This  was  the  usual  style  of  our  meals  on  the  road, 
whether  breakfast,  dinner  or  supper,  except  that  kid  was 
Bometimes  substituted  for  fowl,  and  that  the  oil  employed, 
being  more  or  less  rancid,  gave  different  flavors  to  the 
dishes.  A  course  of  melons,  grapes  or  pomegranates  wound 
up  the  repast,  the  price  of  which  varied  from  ten  to  twelve 
reals — a  real  being  about  a  half-dime.  In  Seville,  at  the 
Fonda  de  Madrid,  the  cooking  is  really  excellent;  but  furthei 
in  the  interior,  judging  from  what  I  have  heard,  it  is  even 
worse  than  I  have  described. 

Continuing  our  journey,  we  passed  around  the  southern 
brow  of  the  hill,  under  the  Moorish  battlements.  Here  a 
superb  view  opened  to  the  south  and  east  over  the  wide  Vega 
of  Carmona,  as  far  as  the  mountain  chain  which  separates  it 
from  the  plain  of  Granada,  The  city  has  for  a  coat  of  arms  a 
silver  star  in  an  azure  field,  with  the  pompous  motto  :  "  Aa 
Lucifer  shines  in  the  morning,  so  shines  Carmona  in  Anda- 
lusia." If  it  shines  at  all,  it  is  because  it  is  a  city  set  upon  a 
hill  ;  for  that  is  the  only  splendor  I  could  find  about  the  place. 
The  Vega  of  Carmona  is  partially  cultivated,  and  now  wears  a 
sombre  brown  hue,  from  its  tracts  of  ploughed  land. 

Cultivation  soon  ceased,  however,  and  we  entered  on  a 
dehesa,  a  boundless  plain  of  waste  land,  covered  with  thickets 
of  palmettos.  Flocks  of  goats  and  sheep,  guarded  by  shep- 
herds in  brown  cloaks,  wandered  here  and  there,  and  except 
their  huts  and  an  isolated  house,  with  its  group  of  palm-trees, 
there  was  no  sign  of  habitation.  The  road  was  a  deep,  red 
Band,  and  our  mules  toiled  along  slowly  and  painfully,  urged 
by  the  incessant  cries  of  the  mayoral,  or  conductor,  and  his 
mozo.     As  the  mayoral's  whip  could  only  reach  the  second 


THE     MAYORAL    AND     HIS    TEAM.  407 

spnn,  the  business  of  the  latter  was  to  jump  down  every  tec 
minutes,  run  ahead  and  belabor  the  flanks  of  the  foremost 
mules,  uttering  at  the  same  time  a  series  of  sharp  howls,  which 
seemed  to  strike  the  poor  beasts  with  quite  as  much  severity 
as  his  whip.  I  defy  even  a  Spanish  ear  to  distinguisli  the 
Import  of  these  cries,  and  the  great  wonder  was  how  they 
could  all  come  out  of  one  small  throat.  "When  it  came  to  a 
hard  pull,  they  cracked  and  exploded  like  vcUeys  of  musketry, 
and  flew  like  hail-stones  about  the  ears  of  the  machos  (he- 
mules).  The  postillion,  having  only  the  care  of  the  foremost 
span,  is  a  silent  man,  but  he  has  contracted  a  habit  of  sleeping 
in  the  saddle,  which  I  mention  for  the  benefit  of  timid 
travellers,  as  it  adds  to  the  interest  of  a  journey  by  night. 

The  clouds  which  had  been  gathering  all  day,  now  settled 
down  upon  the  plain,  and  night  came  on  with  a  dull  rain.  At 
eight  o'clock  we  reached  the  City  of  Ecija,  wliere  we  had  two 
hours'  halt  and  supper.  It  was  so  dark  and  rainy  that  I 
Baw  nothing,  not  even  the  classic  Xenil,  the  river  of  Granada, 
which  flows  through  the  city  on  its  way  to  the  Guadalquivir. 
The  night  wore  slowly  away,  and  while  the  vwzo  drowsed  on 
his  post,  I  caught  snatches  of  sleep  between  his  cries.  As  the 
landscape  began  to  grow  distinct  in  the  gray,  cloudy  dawn,  we 
saw  before  us  Cordova,  with  the  dark  range  of  the  Sierra  Ma« 
rena  rising  behind  it.  This  city,  once  the  glory  of  Moorish 
Spain,  the  capital  of  the  great  Abd-cr-Rahman,  containing, 
wheu  in  its  prime,  a  million  of  inhabitants,  is  now  a  melancholy 
rreck.  It  has  not  a  shadow  of  the  art,  science,  and  taste 
which  then  distinguished  it,  and  the  only  interest  it  now  pos- 
sesses is  from  these  associations,  and  the  despoiled  remnant  of 
\ta  renowned  Mosque, 


408  THM  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN, 

We  crossed  the  Guadalquivir  on  a  fine  bridge  bnill  on 
Roman  foundations,  and  drove  slowly  down  the  one  long, 
rough,  crooked  street.  The  diligence  stops  for  an  hour,  to 
allow  passengers  to  breakfast,  but  my  first  thought  was  for  the 
Cathedral-mosque,  la  Mezquita,  as  it  is  still  called.  "  It  is 
closed,"  said  the  ragged  crowd  that  congregated  about  us  ; 
"you  cannot  get  in  until  eight  o'clock."  But  I  remembered 
that  a  silver  key  will  open  anything  in  Spain,  and  taking  a 
mozo  as  a  guide  we  hurried  off  as  fast  as  the  rough  pavements 
would  permit.  We  had  to  retrace  the  whole  length  of  the  city, 
but  on  reaching  the  Cathedral,  found  it  open.  The  exterior  is 
low,  and  quite  plain,  though  of  great  extent.  A  Moorish  gate- 
way admitted  me  into  the  original  court-yard,  or  karam,  of  the 
mosque,  which  is  planted  with  orange  trees  and  contains  the 
fountain,  for  the  ablutions  of  Moslem  worshippers,  in  the  centre. 
The  area  of  the  Mosque  proper,  exclusive  of  the  court-yard,  is 
about  400  by  350  feet.  It  was  built  on  the  plan  of  the  great 
Mosque  of  Damascus,  about  the  end  of  the  eighth  century. 
The  materials — ^including  twelve  hundred  columns  of  marble, 
jasper  and  porphyry,  from  the  ruins  of  Carthage,  and  the 
temples  of  Asia  Minor — belonged  to  a  Christian  basilica,  of 
the  Gothic  domination,  which  was  built  upon  the  foundations 
of  a  Roman  temple  of  Janus  ;  so  that  the  three  great  creeds 
of  the  world  have  here  at  different  times  had  their  seat.  The 
Moors  considered  this  mosque  as  second  iu  holiness  to  the 
Kaaba  of  Mecca,  and  made  pilgrimages  to  it  from  all  parts  of 
Moslem  Spain  and  Barbary.  Even  now,  although  shorn  of 
much  of  its  glory,  it  surpasses  any  Oriental  mosque  into  which 
I  have  penetrated,  except  St.  Sophia,  which  is  a  Christian 
edifice. 


THE  MOSQDE  OF  CORDOVA.  409 

All  the  nineteen  original  cntiances — beautiful  horso-ehoo 
arches — are  closed,  except  the  central  one,  I  entered  by  a  low 
door,  in  one  corner  of  the  corridor.  A  wilderness  of  columns 
connected  by  double  arches  (one  springing  above  the  other, 
with  an  opening  between),  spread  their  dusky  aisles  before  me 
in  the  morning  twilight.  The  eight  hundred  and  fifty  shafts 
of  this  marble  forest  formed  labyrinths  and  mazes,  which  at 
that  early  hour  appeared  boundless,  for  their  long  vistas  disap- 
peared in  the  shadows.  Lamps  were  burning  before  distant 
shrines,  and  a  few  worshippers  were  kneeling  silently  here  and 
there.  The  sound  of  my  own  footsteps,  as  I  wandered  through 
the  ranks  of  pillars,  was  all  that  I  heard.  In  the  centre  of 
the  wood  (for  such  it  seemed)  rises  the  choir,  a  gaudy  and 
tasteless  excrescence  added  by  the  Christians.  Even  Charles 
v.,  who  laid  a  merciless  hand  on  the  Alhambra,  reproved  the 
Bishop  of  Cordova  for  this  barbarous  and  unnecessary  dis- 
figurement. 

The  sacristan  lighted  lamps  in  order  to  show  me  the  Moorish 
chapels.  Nothing  but  the  precious  materials  of  which  these 
exquisite  structures  are  composed  could  have  saved  them  from 
the  holy  hands  of  the  Inquisition,  which  intentionally  destroyed 
all  the  Roman  antiquities  of  Cordova.  Here  the  fringed 
arches,  the  lace-like  filigrees,  the  wreathed  inscriptions,  and  the 
domes  of  pendent  stalactites  which  enchant  vou  in  the  Alcazar 
of  Seville,  are  repeated,  not  in  stucco,  but  in  purest  marble, 
while  the  entrance  to  the  "  holy  of  holies"  is  probably  the  most 
glorious  piece  of  mosaic  in  the  world.  The  pavement  of  tlio 
Ulterior  is  deeply  worn  by  the  knees  of  ihe  Moslem  pilgrims, 
who  compassed  it  seven  times,  kneeling,  as  they  now  do  in  the 
Kaaba,  at  Mecca.     The  sides  are  embroidered  with  sentences 

18 


*10  THE     LANDS     OP    THE     SARACEN. 

from  tlie  Koran,  in  Cufic  characters,  and  the  roof  is  in  the 
form  of  a  fluted  shell,  of  a  single  piece  of  pure  white  marble, 
fifteen  feet  in  diameter.  The  roof  of  the  vestibule  is  a  wor- 
derful  piece  of  workmanship,  formed  of  pointed  arches,  wreathed 
and  twined  through  each  other,  like  basket-work.  Ko  people 
ever  wrought  poetry  into  stone  so  perfectly  as  the  Saracens. 
In  looking  on  these  precious  relics  of  an  elegant  and  refined 
race,  I  cannot  help  feeling  a  strong  regret  that  their  kingdoiu 
ever  passed  into  other  hands. 

Leaving  Cordova,  our  road  followed  the  Guadalquivir,  along 
the  foot  of  the  Sierra  Morena,  which  rose  dark  and  stern,  a 
barrier  to  the  central  table-lands  of  La  Mancha.  At  Alcolea, 
we  crossed  the  river  on  a  noble  bridge  of  black  marble,  out  of 
all  keeping  with  the  miserable  road.  It  rained  incessantly, 
and  the  scenery  through  which  we  passed  had  a  wild  and 
gloomy  character.  The  only  tree  to  be  seen  was  the  olive, 
■which  covered  the  hills  far  and  near,  the  profusion  of  its  fruit 
showing  the  natural  richness  of  the  soil.  This  part  of  the 
road  is  sometimes  infested  with  robbers,  and  once,  when  I  saw 
two  individuals  waiting  for  us  in  a  lonely  defile,  with  gun-bar- 
rels thrust  out  from  under  their  black  cloaks,  I  anticipated  a 
recurrence  of  a  former  unpleasant  experience.  But  they  proved 
to  be  members  of  the  guardia  civil,  and  therefore  our  pro- 
tectors. 

The  ruts  and  quagmires,  made  by  the  rain,  retarded  our  pro- 
gress, and  it  was  dark  when  we  reached  Andujar,  fourteen 
leagues  from  Cordova.  To  Baylen,  where  I  was  to  quit  the 
diligence,  and  take  another  coming  down  from  Madrid  to 
Granada,  was  four  leagues  further  We  journeyed  on  in  the 
dark,  in  a  pouring  rain,  up  and  down  hill  for  some  hour*, 


A     NU;nT     ADVENTL'UE,  411 

wheu  all  at  once  the  cries  of  the  niozo  ceased,  and  the  diligence 
came  to  a  dead  ?;top.  There  was  some  talk  between  our  con- 
ductors, and  then  the  mayoral  opened  tlie  door  and  invited  as 
to  get  out.  The  postillion  had  fallen  asleep,  and  the  mules  had 
taken  us  into  a  wrong  road.  An  attempt  was  made  to  turn 
the  diligence,  but  failed,  leaving  it  standing  plump  against  a 
high  bank  of  mud.  We  stood,  meanwhile,  shivering  in  the 
cold  and  wet,  and  the  fair  Audalusian  shed  abundance  of  tears. 
Fortunately,  Baylen  was  close  at  hand,  and,  after  some  delay, 
two  men  came  with  lanterns  and  escorted  us  to  the  posada,  or 
inn,  where  we  arrived  at  midnight.  The  diligence  from  Madrid, 
which  was  due  six  hours  before,  had  not  made  its  ajipearance, 
and  we  passed  the  rest  of  the  night  in  a  cold  room,  fasting, 
for  the  meal  was  only  to  be  served  wheu  the  other  passengers 
came.  At  day-break,  finally,  a  single  dish  of  oily  meat  was 
vouchsafed  to  us,  and,  as  it  was  now  certain  that  some  acci- 
dent had  hapijcned,  the  passengers  to  Madrid  requested  the 
Administrador  to  send  them  on  in  an  extra  conveyance.  This 
he  refused,  and  they  began  to  talk  about  getting  up  a  pronun 
ciamento,  when  a  messenger  arrived  with  the  news  that  the 
diligence  had  broken  down  at  midnight,  about  two  leagues  off. 
Tools  were  thereupon  dispatched,  nine  hours  after  the  accident 
happened,  and  we  might  hope  to  be  released  from  our  imprison- 
ment in  four  or  five  more. 

Baylen  is  a  wretched  place,  celebrated  for  having  the  first 
palm-tree  which  those  see  who  come  from  Madrid,  and  for  the 
victory  gained  by  Castanos  over  the  French  forces  uuder 
Dupont,  which  occasioned  the  fiight  of  Joseph  Buonaparte 
from  Madrid,  and  the  temporary  liberation  of  Spain  from  the 
Freuch  yoke.     Castanos,  who  received  the  title  of  Duke  df 


412  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SAJ^ACEN, 

Baylen,  and  is  compared  by  the  Spaniards  to  Wellington,  died 
about  three  mouths  ago.  The  battle-Geld  I  passed  in  the 
night ;  the  palm-tree  I  found,  but  it  is  now  a  mere  stump, 
the  leaves  having  been  stripped  off  to  protect  the  houses  of 
the  inhabitants  from  lightning.  Our  posada  had  one  of  them 
hung  at  the  window.  At  last,  the  diligence  came,  and  at  three 
P.M.,  when  I  ought  to  have  been  iu  sight  of  Granada,  I  left  the 
forlorn  walls  of  Baylen.  My  fellow-passengers  were  a  young 
sprig  of  the  Spanish  nobility  and  three  chubby-faced  nuns. 

Tlie  rest  of  the  journey  that  afternoon  was  through  a  wide, 
hilly  region,  entirely  bare  of  trees  and  habitations,  and  but 
partially  cultivated.  There  was  something  sublime  in  its  very 
nakedness  and  lonehness,  and  I  felt  attracted  to  it  as  I  do 
towards  the  Desert.  In  fact,  although  I  have  seen  little  fine 
scenery  since  leaving  Seville,  have  had  the  worst  of  weather, 
and  no  very  pleasant  travelling  experiences,  the  country  has 
exercised  a  fascination  over  me,  which  I  do  not  quite  under- 
stand. I  find  myself  constantly  on  the  point  of  making  a  vow 
to  return  again.  Much  to  my  regret,  night  set  in  before  we 
reached  Jaen,  the  capital  of  the  Moorish  kingdom  of  that 
name.  We  halted  for  a  short  time  in  the  large  plaza  of  the 
town,  where  the  dash  of  fountains  mingled  with  the  sound  of 
the  rain,  and  the  black,  jagged  outline  of  a  mountain  over- 
hanging the  place  was  visible  through  the  storm. 

All  night  we  journeyed  on  through  the  mountains,  some- 
times splashing  through  swollen  streams,  sometimes  coming 
almost  to  a  halt  in  beds  of  deep  mud.  When  this  morning 
dawned,  we  were  ascending  through  wild,  stony  hills,  over- 
grown with  shrubbery,  and  the  driver  said  we  were  six  leagues 
from  Granada,     Still  on,  through  a  lonely  country,  with  now 


TOE    VEGA    OF    GRA.NADA,  418 

and  then  a  large  venta,  or  country  inn,  V»y  the  road-side,  and 
about  nine  o'clock,  as  the  sky  became  more  clear,  I  saw  in 
front  of  us,  high  up  under  the  clouds,  the  snow-fields  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada.  An  hour  afterwards  we  were  riding  between 
gardens,  vineyards,  and  olive  orchards,  with  the  magnificent 
Ycga  of  Granada  stretching  far  away  on  the  right,  and  the 
Vermilion  Towers  of  th3  Alhambra  crowning  the  heights 
before  us. 


Hi  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACEN 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

URANADA  AND  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Maleo  Xlmenez,  the  Younger— The  Cathedral  of  Granada— A  Monkish  Miracle — Catholic 
Shrines— Military  Cherubs— The  Royal  Chapel— The  Tombs  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella—Chapel of  San  Juan  de  Dios— The  Albaycin— View  of  the  Vega— The  Generalife— 
The  Alhambra— Torra  de  la  Vela— The  Walls  and  Towers— A  Visit  to  Old  Mateo— 
The  Court  of  the  Fish-pond— The  Halls  of  the  Alhambra— Character  of  the  Architec- 
ture—HaJ  of  the  Abencerrages— Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters— The  Moorish  Dynasty  in 
Bp7,in. 

"  Who  has  not  in  Granada  been, 
Verily,  he  has  nothing  seen," 

Andalusian  Proverb. 

Granada,  Wednesday,  Nov.  17, 1S52. 

Immediately  on  reaching  here,  I  was  set  upon  by  an  old 
gentleman  who  wanted  to  act  as  guide,  but  the  mozo  of 
the  hotel  put  into  my  hand  a  card  inscribed  "  Don  Mateo 
Ximenez,  Guide  to  the  celebrated  Washington  Irving,"  and  I 
dismissed  the  other  applicant.  The  next  morning,  as  the  mozo 
brought  me  my  chocolate,  he  said  ;  "  Sefior,  el  chico  is  waiting 
for  you."  The  "little  one"  turned  out  to  be  tlie  son  of  old 
Mateo,  "honest  Mateo,"  who  still  lives  up  in  the  Alhambra, 
but  is  now  rather  too  old  to  continue  his  business,  except  ou 
great  occasions  I  accepted  the  young  Mateo,  who  spoke  with 
the  greatest  enthusiasm  of  Mr.  Irving,  avowing  that  the  whole 
family  was  devoted  to  him,  in  life  and  death.     It  was  still 


THR     CATIIKDRAL     OF     GRANADa.  416 

raining  furiously,  and  the  golden  Darro,  which  roars  io 
front  of  the  hotel,  was  a  swollen  brown  flood.  I  don't 
wonder  that  he  sometimes  threatens,  as  the  old  couplet  says, 
to  burst  up  the  Zacatin,  and  bear  it  down  to  his  bride,  the 
Xenil. 

Towards  noon,  the  clouds  broke  away  a  little,  and  we  sallied 
out.  Passing  through  the  gate  and  square  of  Vivarrambla 
(may  not  this  name  come  from  the  Arabic  bab  er-raml,  the 
"gate  of  the  sand?"),  we  soon  reached  the  Cathedral.  Thia 
massive  structure,  which  makes  a  good  feature  in  the  distant 
view  of  Granada,  is  not  at  all  imposing,  near  at  baud.  The 
interior  is  a  mixture  of  Gothic  and  Roman,  glaring  with  whitc- 
H'ash,  and  broken,  like  that  of  Seville,  by  a  wooden  choir  and 
two  grand  organs,  blocking  up  the  nave.  Some  of  the  side 
chapels,  nevertheless,  are  splendid  masses  of  carving  and  gild- 
ing. In  one  of  them,  there  are  two  full-length  portraits  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  supposed  to  be  by  Alonzo  Cano.  The 
Cathedral  contains  some  other  good  pictures  by  the  same 
master,  but  all  its  former  treasures  were  carried  oil'  by  the 
French. 

We  next  went  to  the  Picture  Gallery,  which  is  in  the  Fran- 
ciscan Convent.  There  are  two  small  Murillos,  much  damaged, 
some  tolerable  Alonzo  Cauos,  a  few  common-place  pictures 
by  Juan  de  Sevilla,  and  a  hundred  or  more  by  authors  whose 
names  I  did  not  inquire,  for  a  more  hideous  collection  of  trash 
never  met  my  eye.  One  of  thorn  represents  a  miracle  per- 
formed by  two  saints,  who  cut  off  the  diseased  leg  of  a  sick 
white  man,  and  replace  it  by  the  sound  leg  of  a  dead  negro, 
whose  body  is  seen  lying  beside  the  bed.  Judging  from  the 
ghastly  face  of  the  patient,  the  operation  is  rather  painful 


416  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

though  the  story  goes  that  the  black  leg  grew  fast,  and  the 
man  recovered.  The  picture  at  least  illustrates  the  absence  of 
"prejudice  of  color"  among  the  Saints. 

We  went  into  the  adjoining  Church  of  Santo  Domingo, 
which  has  several  very  rich  shrines  of  marble  and  gold.  A 
sort  of  priestly  sacristan  opened  the  Church  of  the  Madonna 
del  Rosario — a  glittering  mixture  of  marble,  gold,  and  looking- 
glasses,  which  has  rather  a  rich  effect.  The  beautiful  yellow 
and  red  veined  marbles  are  from  the  Sierra  Nevada.  The 
sacred  Madonna — a  big  doll  with  staring  eyes  and  pink  cheeks 
—has  a  dress  of  silver,  shaped  like  an  extinguisher,  and 
encrusted  with  rubies  and  otlicr  precious  stones.  The  utter 
absence  of  taste  in  most  Catholic  shrines  is  an  extraordinary 
thing.  It  seems  remarkable  that  a  Church  which  has  produced 
so  many  glorious  artists  should  so  constantly  and  grossly  vio- 
late the  simplest  rules  of  art.  The  only  shrine  which  I  have 
seen,  which  was  in  keeping  with  the  object  adored,  is  that  of 
the  Virgin,  at  Kazareth,  where  there  is  neither  picture  nor 
image,  but  only  vases  of  fragrant  flowers,  and  perfumed  oil  in 
golden  lamps,  burning  before  a  tablet  of  spotless  marble. 

Among  the  decorations  of  the  chapel,  there  are  a  host  of 
cherubs  frescoed  on  the  ceiUng,  and  one  of  them  is  represented 
in  the  act  of  firing  off  a  blunderbuss.  "  Is  it  true  that  the 
angels  carry  blunderbusses?"  I  asked  the  priest.  He  shrugged 
his  shoulders  with  a  sort  of  half-smile,  and  said  nothing.  In 
the  Cathedral,  on  the  plinths  of  the  columns  in  the  outer 
aisles,  are  several  notices  to  the  effect  that  "  whoever  speaka 
to  women,  either  in  the  nave  or  the  aisles,  thereby  puts  him- 
self in  danger  of  excomnmnication."  I  could  not  help  laugh* 
uig,  as  I  read  this  monkish  and  yet  most  ««monk-like  statute 


THE     ROYAL     CHAPEL.  411 

"Oh,"  said  Mateo,  "  all  that  was  in  the  despotic  timoa     it  \a 
Dot  so  now." 

A  deluge  of  rain  put  a  stop  to  my  sight-seeing  nntil  the  next 
morning,  when  I  set  out  with  Mateo  to  visit  the  Royal  Chapel. 
A  murder  had  been  committed  in  the  night,  near  the  entrance 
of  the  Zacatiu,  and  the  paving-stones  were  still  red  with  the 
blood  of  the  victim.  A  funcion  of  some  sort  was  going  on  in 
the  Chapel,  and  we  went  into  the  sacristy  to  wait.  The  priests 
and  choristers  were  there,  changing  their  robes  ;  they  saluted 
me  good-humoredly,  though  there  was  an  expression  in  their 
faces  that  plainly  said  :  "  a  heretic  !"  When  the  service  was 
concluded,  I  went  into  the  chapel  and  examined  the  high  altar, 
with  its  rude  wood-carvings,  representing  the  surrender  of 
Granada.  The  portraits  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  Cardinal 
Ximenez,  Gonzalvo  of  Cordova,  and  King  Boabdil,  are  very 
curious.  Another  tablet  represents  the  baptism  of  the  cot 
quered  Moors. 

In  the  centre  of  the  chapel  stand  the  monuments  erected  to 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  their  successors  Philip  I.,  and 
Maria,  by  Charles  V.  They  are  tall  catafalques  of  white 
marble,  superbly  sculptured,  with  the  full  length  effigies  of  the 
monarchs  upon  them.  The  figures  are  admirable  ;  tliat  of 
Isabella,  especially,  though  the  features  are  settled  in  the 
repose  of  death,  expresses  all  the  grand  and  noble  traits  which 
belonged  to  her  character.  The  sacristan  removed  the  mat- 
ting from  a  part  of  the  floor,  disclosing  an  iron  grating  under- 
neath. A  damp,  mouldly  smell,  significant  of  death  and 
decay,  came  up  through  the  opening.  lie  lighted  two  long 
waxen  tapers,  lifted  the  grating,  and  I  followed  him  down  the 
narrow  steps  into  the  vault  where  lie  the  cofiGlns  of  the  Catho 

18* 


418  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

lie  Sovereigus.  They  were  brought  here  from  the  Alhambra, 
in  1525.  The  Icadeu  sarcophagi,  containing  the  bodies  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  lie,  side  by  side,  on  stone  slabs  ;  and 
as  1  stood  between  the  two,  resting  a  hand  on  each,  the  sacris- 
tan jjlaced  the  tapers  in  apertures  in  the  stone,  at  the  head 
and  foot.  They  sleep,  as  they  wished,  in  their  beloved  Gra- 
nada, and  no  profane  hand  has  ever  disturbed  the  repose  of 
their  ashes. 

After  visiting  the  Church  of  San  Jeronimo,  founded  by  Gon« 
•zalvo  of  Cordova,  I  went  to  the  adjoining  Church  and  Hospi 
tal  of  San  Juan  de  Dios.  A  fat  priest,  washmg  his  hands  in 
the  sacristy,  sent  a  boy  to  show  me  the  Chapel  of  San  Juan, 
and  the  relics.  The  remains  of  the  Saint  rest  in  a  silver  chest, 
standing  in  the  centre  of  a  richly-adorned  chapel.  Among 
the  relics  is  a  thorn  from  the  crown  of  Christ,  which,  as  any 
botanist  may  see,  must  have  grown  on  a  difTerent  plant  from 
the  other  thorn  they  show  at  Seville  ;  and  neither  kind 
is  found  in  Palestine.  The  true  spina  christi,  the  nebbuk,  has 
very  small  thorns;  but  nothing  could  be  more  cruel,  as  I 
found  when  riding  through  patches  of  it  near  Jericho.  The 
boy  also  showed  mc  a  tooth  of  San  Lorenzo,  a  crooked  brown 
bicuspis,  from  which  I  should  infer  that  the  sain  I  was  rather  an 
ill-favored  man.  The  gilded  chapel  of  San  Juan  is  in  singular 
contrast  with  one  of  the  garments  which  he  wore  when  living 
—a  cowl  of  plaited  reeds,  looking  like  an  old  fish  basket— 
which  is  kept  in  a  glass  case.  His  portrait  is  also  to  be  seen  • 
a  mild  and  beautiful  face,  truly  that  of  one  who  went  about 
doing  good.  lie  was  a  sort  of  Spanish  John  Howard,  and 
deserved  canonization,  if  anybody  ever  did. 

I  ascended  the  street  of  the  Darro  to  tlie  Albaycin,  whioh 


VIEW     OF     THE     VEGA.  419 

we  entered  by  one  of  the  ancient  gates.  This  suburb  is  still 
Burrouuded  by  the  original  fortifications,  and  undermined  by 
the  capacious  cisterns  of  tlie  Moors.  It  looks  down  on  Gra- 
nada  ;  and  from  the  crumbling  parapets  there  are  superb  viewg 
over  the  city,  the  Vega,  and  its  inclosing  mountains.  The 
Alharabra  rose  opposite,  against  the  dark-red  and  purple  back- 
ground of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  a  canopy  of  heavy  rain- 
clouds  rested  on  all  the  heights.  A  fitful  gleam  of  sunshine 
now  and  then  broke  through  and  wandered  over  the  plain, 
touching  up  white  towers  and  olive  groves  and  reaches  of  the 
winding  Xenil,  with  a  brilliancy  which  suggested  the  splendor 
of  the  whole  picture,  if  once  thus  restored  to  its  proper  light. 
I  could  see  Santa  Fe  in  the  distance,  toward  Loxa  ;  nearer, 
and  more  eastward,  the  Sierra  de  Elvira,  of-  a  deep  violet 
color,  with  the  woods  of  the  Soto  de  Roma,  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington's estate,  at  its  base  ;  and  beyond  it  the  Mountain  of 
Parapanda,  the  weather-guage  of  Granada,  still  covered  with 
clouds.  There  is  an  old  Granadian  proverb  which  says  : — 
"When  Parapanda  wears  his  bonnet,  it  will  rain  whether  God 
wills  it  or  no."  From  the  chapel  of  San  Miguel,  above  the 
Albaycin,  there  is  a  very  striking  view  of  the  deep  gorge  of 
the  Darro,  at  one's  feet,  with  the  gardens  and  white  walls  of 
the  Generalife  rising  beyond,  and  the  Silla  del  Moro  and  tlie 
Mountain  of  the  Sun  towering  above  it.  The  long,  irregular 
lines  of  the  Alhambra,  with  the  huge  red  towers  rising  here  and 
there,  reminded  me  somewhat  of  a  distant  view  of  Karnak  ; 
and,  like  Karnak,  the  Alhambra  is  picturesque  from  whatever 
point  it  is  viewed. 

We  descended  through  wastes  of  cactus  to  the  Darro,  in 
whose  turbid  stream  a  group  of  men  were  washing  for  gold    J 


420  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

watched  one  of  them,  as  he  twirled  his  bowl  in  precisely 
the  California  style,  but  got  nothing  for  his  pains,  Matec 
says  that  they  often  make  a  dollar  a  day,  each.  Passing  undei 
the  Tower  of  Comares  and  along  the  battlements  of  the 
Alhambra,  we  climbed  up  to  the  Generalife.  This  charming 
villa  is  still  in  good  preservation,  though  its  exquisite  filigree 
and  scroll-work  have  been  greatly  injured  by  whitewash. 
The  elegant  colonnades  surround  gardens  rich  in  roses, 
myrtles  and  cypresses,  and  the  fountains  that  lulled  the  Moor- 
ish Kings  in  their  summer  idleness  still  pour  their  fertilizing 
streams.  In  one  of  the  rooms  is  a  small  and  bad  portrait  gal- 
lery, containing  a  supposed  portrait  of  Boabdil.  It  is  a  mild, 
amiable  face,  but  wholly  lacks  strength  of  character. 

To-day  I  devoted  to  the  Alhambra.  The  storm,  which,  as 
the  people  say,  has  not  been  equalled  for  several  years,  showed 
DO  signs  of  breaking  up,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  driving  shower 
I  ascended  to  the  Vermilion  Towers,  which  are  supposed  to 
be  of  Phoenician  origin.  They  stand  on  the  extremity  of  a 
long,  narrow  ledge,  which  stretches  out  like  an  arm  from  the 
hill  of  the  Alhambra.  The  pasco  lies  between,  and  is  shaded 
by  beautiful  elms,  which  the  Moors  planted. 

I  entered  the  Alhambra  by  the  Gate  of  Justice,  which  is  a 
fine  specimen  of  Moorish  architecture,  though  of  common  red 
brick  and  mortar.  It  is  singular  what  a  grace  the  horse-shoe 
arch  gives  to  the  most  heavy  and  himbering  mass  of  masonry. 
The  round  arches  of  the  Christian  edifices  of  Granada  seem 
tame  and  inelegant,  in  comparison.  Over  the  arch  of  the  ves- 
tibule of  this  gate  is  the  colossal  hand,  and  over  the  inner 
entrance  the  key,  celebrated  in  the  tales  of  Washington  Irving 
and  the  superstitions  of  the  people.     I  first  ascended  the  Torre 


WALLS     AND    TOWERS     OF    THE     ALHAMBRA.  421 

de  la  Vela,  where  the  Christian  flag  was  first  planted  on  the 
2d  of  January,  1492.  The  view  of  the  Yega  and  City  of  Gra^ 
nada  was  even  grander  than  from  the  Albaycin.  Parapanda 
was  still  bonneted  in  clouds,  but  patches  of  blue  sky  began  ti 
open  above  the  mountains  of  Loxa.  A  little  boy  accompanied 
us,  to  see  that  I  did  not  pull  the  bell,  the  sound  of  which 
would  call  together  all  the  troops  in  the  city,  "While  we 
stood  there,  the  funeral  procession  of  the  man  murdered  two 
nights  before  came  up  the  street  of  Gomercz,  and  passed 
around  the  hill  under  the  Vermilion  Towers. 

I  made  the  circuit  of  the  walls  before  entering  the  Palace 
In  tlic  Place  of  the  Cisterns,  I  stopped  to  take  a  drink  of  the 
cool  water  of  the  Darro,  wliich  is  brought  thither  by  subterra- 
nean channels  from  the  hills.  Then,  passing  the  ostentutioua 
pile  commenced  by  Charles  V.,  but  which  was  never  finished, 
and  never  will  be,  nor  ought  to  be,  we  walked  along  the 
southern  ramparts  to  the  Tower  of  the  Seven  Floors,  amid  the 
ruins  of  which  I  discerned  the  top  of  the  arch  by  which  the 
unfortunate  Boabdil  quitted  Granada,  and  which  was  thence- 
forth closed  for  ever.  In  the  Tower  of  the  Infantas,  a  number 
of  workmen  were  busy  restoring  the  interior,  which  has  been 
cruelly  damaged.  The  brilliant  azulejo,  or  tile-work,  the  deli- 
cate arches  and  filigree  sculpture  of  the  walls,  still  attest  its 
former  elegance,  and  give  some  color  to  the  tradition  that  it 
was  the  residence  of  the  Moorish  Princesses, 

As  we  passed  through  the  little  village  which  still  exists 
among  the  ruins  of  the  fortress,  Mateo  invited  me  to  step  in 
and  see  his  father,  the  genuine  "  honest  Mateo,"  immortalized 
in  the  "  Tales  of  the  Alhambra."  The  old  man  has  taken  up 
the  trade  of  silk-weaving,  and  had  a  number  of  gay-colorec" 


123  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

ribbons  on  his  loom.     He  is  more  than  sixty  years  old  and 
now  quite  gray-headed,  but  has  the  same  simple  manners,  the 
same  honest  face  that  attracted  his  temporary  master.     He 
spoke  with  great  enthusiasm  of  Mr.  Irving,  and  brought  out 
from  a  place  of  safety  the  "Alhambra"  and  the  "  Chroniclea 
of  the  Conquest,"  which  he  has  carefully  preserved.     He  then 
produced  an  Andalusian  sash,  the  work  of  his  own  hands, 
which  he  insisted  on  binding  around  my  waist,  to  see  how  it 
would  look.    I  must  next  take  off  my  coat  and  hat,  and  put  on 
his  Sunday  jacket  and  jaunty  sombrero.     "For  Dios  !''  he 
exclaimed:    "que  luen  mozo !      Seilor,  you  are  a   legitimate 
Andalusian  !"     After  this,  of  course,  1  could  do  no  less  than 
buy  the  sash.     "You  must  show  it  to  Washington  Irving," 
paid  he,  "  and  tell  him  it  was  made  by  Mateo's  own  hands  ;" 
which  I  promised.     I  must  then  go  into  the  kitchen,  and  eat  a 
pomegranate  from  his  garden — a  glorious  pomegranate,  with 
kernels  of  crimson,  and  so  full  of  blood  that  you  could  not 
touch  them  but  it  trickled  through  your  fingers.     El  Marques, 
a  sprightly  dog,  and  a  great  slate-colored  cat,  took  possession 
of  my  legs,  and  begged  for  a  share  of  every  mouthful  I  took, 
while  old  Mateo  sat  beside  me,  rejoicing  in  the  flavor  of  a 
Gibraltar  cigar  which  I  gave  him.     But  my  time  was  precious, 
and  so  1  let  the  "  Son  of  the  Alhambra"  go  back  to  his  loom, 
and  set  out  for  the  Palace  of  the  Moorish  Kings. 

This  palace  is  so  hidden  behind  the  ambitious  shell  of  that 
of  Charles  V.  that  I  was  at  a  loss  where  it  could  be.  I 
thought  I  had  compassed  the  hill,  and  yet  had  seen  no  indica- 
tions of  the  renowned  magnificence  cf  the  Alhambra.  But  a 
little  door  in  a  blank  wall  ushered  me  into  a  true  Moorish 
realm,  the  Court  of  the  Fishpond,  or  of  the  Myrtles,  as  it  h 


THE    HALL    OF    LIONS.  423 

Bometimes  called,  llcre  I  saw  again  the  slender  pillars,  the 
fringed  and  embroidered  arches,  and  the  perforated,  lacc-likp 
tracery  of  the  fairy  corridors.  Here,  hedges  of  roses  and  myr 
ties  still  bloomed  around  the  ancient  tank,  wherein  hundreds  of 
gold-fish  disported.  The  noises  of  the  hill  do  not  penetrate 
here,  and  the  solitary  porter  who  admitted  me  went  back 
to  his  post,  and  suffered  me  to  wander  at  will  through  the 
enchanted  halls. 

I  passed  out  of  this  court  by  an  opposite  door,  and  saw, 
through  the  vistas  of  marble  pillars  and  the  wonderful  fret- 
work which  seems  a  thing  of  air  rather  than  of  earth,  the 
Fountain  of  the  Lions.  Thence  I  entered  in  succession  the 
Hall  of  the  Abenccrrages,  the  Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters,  the 
apartments  of  the  Sultanas,  the  Mosque,  and  the  Hall  of  the 
Ambassadors.  These  places — all  that  is  left  of  the  renowned 
palace — are  now  well  kept,  and  carefully  guarded.  Restora- 
tions are  going  on,  here  and  there,  and  the  place  is  scrupu- 
lously watched,  that  no  foreign  Vandal  may  further  injure 
what  the  native  Goths  have  done  their  best  to  destroy.  The 
rubbish  has  been  cleared  away ;  the  rents  in  the  walls  have 
been  filled  up,  and,  for  the  first  time  since  it  passed  into 
Spanish  hands,  there  seems  a  hope  that  the  Alhambra  will  be 
allowed  to  stand.  What  has  been  already  destroyed  we  can 
only  partially  conjecture  ;  but  no  one  sees  what  remains  with- 
out completing  the  picture  in  his  own  imagination,  and  placing 
it  among  the  most  perfect  and  marvellous  creations  of  human 
genius. 

Nothing  can  bxcecd  the  richness  of  invention  which,  ia  thia 
series  of  halls,  corridors,  and  courts,  never  repeats  the  same  oina- 
Bieats,  but,  from  the  simplest  primitive  forms  and  colors,  prodooea 


424  THE     LANDS    0^    THE     SARACEN'. 

a  thousand  combinations,  not  one  of  which  is  in  discord  with  th< 
grand  design.  It  is  useless  to  attempt  a  detailed  description  of 
this  architecture  ;  and  it  is  so  unlike  anything  else  in  the  world, 
that,  like  Karnak  and  Baalbec,  those  only  know  the  Alhambra 
who  see  it.  When  you  can  weave  stone,  and  hang  your  halls 
with  marble  tapestry,  you  may  rival  it.  It  is  nothing  to  me 
that  these  ornaments  are  stucco  ;  to  sculpture  them  in  marble 
is  only  the  work  of  the  hands.  Their  great  excellence  is  in  the 
design,  which,  like  all  great  things,  suggests  even  more  than  it 
gives.  If  I  could  create  all  that  the  Court  of  Lions  suggested 
to  me  for  its  completion,  it  would  fulfil  the  dream  of  King 
Sheddad,  and  surpass  the  palaces  of  the  Moslem  Paradise. 

The  pavilions  of  the  Court  of  Lions,  and  the  halls  which 
open  into  it,  on  either  side,  approach  the  nearest  to  their  origi- 
nal perfection.  The  floors  are  marble,  the  wainscoting  of 
painted  tiles,  the  walls  of  embroidery,  still  gleaming  with  the 
softened  lustre  of  their  original  tints,  and  the  lofty  conical 
domes  seem  to  be  huge  sparry  crystalizations,  hung  with  drop- 
ping stalactites,  .rather  than  any  work  of  the  human  hand. 
Each  of  these  domes  is  composed  of  five  thousand  separate 
pieces,  and  the  pendent  prismatic  blocks,  colored  and  gilded, 
gradually  resolve  themselves,  as  you  gaze,  into  the  most  intri- 
cate and  elegant  designs.  But  you  must  study  long  ere  you 
have  won  all  the  secret  of  their  beauty.  To  comprehend  them, 
one  should  spend  a  whole  day,  lying  on  his  back,  under  each 
one.  Mateo  spread  his  cloak  for  me  in  the  fountain  in  the 
Hall  of  the  Abencerrages,  over  the  blood-stains  made  by  the 
decapitation  of  those  gallant  chiefs,  and  I  lay  half  an  hour 
looking  upward  :  aud  this  is  what  I  made  out  of  the  dome. 
From  its  centra,  pinnacle  hung  the  chalice  of  a  flower  with 


THE    MARVELLOUS     DOMES.  425 

feaviliery  petals,  like  the  "crape  rayrtle"  of  our  Soutliern  States 
Outside  of  this,  branched  downward  the  eight  Ti.ya  of  a  h>rt;c 
star,  whose  points  touch'.d  ihe  base  of  the  dome  ;  jci  the  star 
was  itself  composed  of  flowers,  while  between  its  rays  and 
around  its  points  fell  a  shower  of  blossoms,  shells,  and  sparrv 
drops.  From  the  base  of  the  dome  hung  a  gorgeous  pattern 
of  lace,  with  a  fringe  of  bugles,  projecting  into  eight  points  so 
as  to  form  a  star  of  drapery,  hanging  from  the  points  of  the 
flowery  star  in  the  dome.  The  spaces  between  the  angles  were 
filled  with  masses  of  stalactites,  dropping  one  below  the  other, 
till  they  tapered  into  the  jjlain  square  sides  of  the  hall. 

In  the  Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters,  I  lay  likewise  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  resolving  its  misty  glories  into  shape.  The 
dome  was  still  more  suggestive  of  flowers.  The  highest  and 
central  piece  was  a  deep  trumpet-flower,  whose  mouth  was 
cleft  into  eight  petals.  It  hung  in  the  centre  of  a  superb 
lotus-cup,  the  leaves  of  which  were  exquisitely  veined  and 
chased.  Still  further  below  swung  a  mass  of  mimosa  blossoms, 
intermixed  with  pods  and  lance-like  leaves,  and  around  the 
base  of  the  dome  opened  the  bells  of  sixteen  gorgeous  tulips. 
These  pictures  may  not  be  very  intelligible,  but  I  know  not 
how  else  to  paint  the  effect  of  this  fairy  architecture. 

In  Granada,  as  in  Seville  and  Cordova,  one's  sympathies  are 
wholly  with  the  Moors.  The  few  mutilated  traces  which  still 
remain  of  tlieir  power,  taste,  and  refinement,  surpass  any  of  the 
monuments  erected  by  the  race  which  conquered  them.  The 
Moorish  Dynasty  in  Spain  was  truly,  as  Irving  observes,  a 
splendid  exotic,  doomed  never  to  take  a  lasting  root  in  the  soil 
It  ■was  choked  to  death  by  the  native  weeds  ;  and,  in  place  of 
•andb  richly  cultivated  and  teeming  with  plenty,  we  now  have 


426  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

barren  and  almost  depopulated  wastes — in  place  of  educatioit, 
industry,  and  the  cultivation  of  the  arts  and  Bciences,  an 
enslaved,  ignorant  and  degenerate  race.  Andalusia  would  be 
far  more  prosperous  at  this  day,  had  she  remained  in  Moslem 
hands.  True,  she  would  not  have  received  that  Faith  which 
is  yet  destined  to  be  the  redemption  of  the  world,  but  the  doc- 
trines of  Mahomet  are  more  acceptable  to  God,  and  more 
beneficial  to  Man  than  those  of  that  Inquisition,  which,  in 
Spain  alone,  has  shed  ten  times  as  much  Christian  blood  as  all 
the  Moslem  races  together  for  the  last  six  centuries.  It  is  not 
from  a  mere  romantic  interest  that  I  lament  the  fate  of  Boab- 
dil,  and  the  extinction  of  his  dynasty.  Had  he  been  a  king 
worthy  to  reign  in  those  wonderful  halls,  he  never  would  have 
left  them.  Had  he  perished  there,  6ghting  to  the  last,  he 
would  have  been  freed  from  forty  years  of  weary  exile  and  an 
obscure  death.  Well  did  Charles  Y.  observe,  when  speaking 
of  him  :  "  Better  a  tomb  in  the  Alhambra  than  a  palace  in  the 
Alpujar  as  I" 


CHANGE     OF      ftEATllKR.  427 


CHA.PTER    XXXVI. 

THE     BRIDLE- ROADS     OF     AXDALC91A. 

Obaisfe  cf  Wea.her — Napoleon  and  his  Horses — Departure  from  Granada— My  Guide, 
Jos6  Garcia— His  Domestic  Troubles — The  Tragedy  of  the  Umbrella— The  Vow  againta 
Aguardiente — Crossing  the  Vega — The  Sierra  Nevada— The  Baths  of  Alhama — "  Woe 
Is  Me,  Alhama!"— The  Valley  of  the  River  Veler— Velez  Malaga— The  Coast  Road— 
Tl\e  Fisherman  and  his  Donkey— Malaga— Summer  Scenery— Tlie  Story  of  Don  Pedio, 
without  Fear  and  without  Care — The  Field  of  Monda— A  Lonely  Venta. 

Venta  db  VnxALOs,  November  20, 1852. 

The  clouds  broke  away  before  I  had  been  two  hours  in  the 
Alhainbra,  and  the  sunshine  fell  broad  and  warm  into  itg 
courts.  They  must  be  roofed  with  blue  sky,  in  order  to  give 
the  full  impression  of  their  brightness  and  beauty.  Matea 
urocured  me  a  bottle  of  vino  rancio,  and  we  drank  it  together 
in  the  Court  of  Lions.  Six  hours  had  passed  away  before  I 
knew  it,  and  I  reluctantly  prepared  to  leave.  The  clouds  by 
this  time  had  disappeared  ;  the  Vega  slept  in  brilliant  sunshine, 
and  the  peaks  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  shone  white  and  cold 
against  the  sky. 

On  reaching  the  hotel,  I  found  a  little  man,  nicknamed 
Napoleon,  awaiting  me.  He  was  desirous  to  furnish  me  with 
horses,  and,  having  a  prophetic  knowledge  of  the  weather, 
promised  me  a  bright  sky  as  far  as  Gibraltar.  "  I  furnish  all 
the  senors,"  said  he  ;  "they  know  me,  and  never  complain  of 


4ii8  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACEN. 

me  or  my  horses  ;"  but,  by  way  of  security,  on  making  the  bar- 
gain, I  threatened  to  put  up  a  card  in  the  hotel  at  Gibraltar^ 
warning  all  travellers  against  him,  in  case  I  was  not  satisfied. 
My  contract  was  for  two  horses  and  a  guide,  who  were  to  be 
ready  at  sunrise  the  next  morning.  Napoleon  was  as  good  a9 
his  word  ;  and  before  I  had  finished  an  early  cup  of  chocolate, 
there  was  a  little  black  Andalusian  stallion  awaiting  me.  The 
alforjas,  or  saddle-bags,  of  the  guide  were  strengthened  by 
stock  of  cold  provisions,  the  leathern  bota  hanging  beside  it 
was  filled  with  ripe  Granada  wine  ;  and  now  behold  me  ambling 
over  the  Vega,  accoutred  in  a  gay  Andalusian  jacket,  a  sash 
woven  by  Mateo  Ximenes,  and  one  of  those  bandboxy  som- 
breros, which  I  at  first  thought  so  ungainly,  but  now'cousider 
quite  picturesque  and  elegant. 

My  guide,  a  short  but  sinewy  and  well-knit  son  of  the  moun- 
tains, named  Jose  Garcia,  set  olT  at  a  canter  down  the  banks 
of  the  Darro.  "  Don't  ride  so  fast  1"  cried  Napoleon,  whc 
watched  our  setting  out,  from  the  door  of  the  fonda  ;  but 
Jose  was  already. out  of  hearing.  This  guide  is  a  companion 
to  my  liking.  Although  he  is  only  twenty-seven,  he  has  been 
for  a  number  of  years  a  correo,  or  mail-rider,  and  a  guide  for 
travelling  parties.  His  olive  complexion  is  made  still  darker 
by  exposure  to  the  sun  and  wind,  and  his  coal-black  eyes  shino 
with  Southern  heat  and  fire.  He  has  one  of  those  rare  mouthg 
which  are  born  with  a  broad  smile  in  each  corner,  and  whicj 
seem  to  laugh  even  in  the  midst  of  grief.  "We  had  not  been 
two  hours  together,  before  I  knew  his  history  from  beginning 
to  end.  He  had  already  been  married  eight  years,  and  hia 
only  trouble  was  a  debt  of  twenty-four  dollars,  which  the  illness 
of  his  wife  had  caused  him.     This  morey  was  owing  to  the 


THE     TRAGEDY     OF    THE     UMBRELLA.  429 

pawnbroker,  who  kept  bis  best  clothes  in  pledge  until  he  coiiM 
pay  it.  '*  Senor,"  said  he,  "  it  I  had  ten  million  dollars,  I 
would  rather  give  them  all  away  than  have  a  sick  wife."  He 
had  a  brother  in  Puerto  Principe,  Cuba,  who  sent  over  mono) 
eno'jgh  to  pay  the  rent  of  the  house,  but  he  found  that  child 
ren  were  a  great  expense.  "It  is  most  astonishing,"  he  said, 
"  how  much  children  can  eat.  From  morning  till  night,  the 
bread  is  never  out  of  their  mouths." 

Jose  has  recently  been  travelling  with  some  Spaniards,  one 
of  whom  made  him  pay  two  dollars  for  an  umbrella  which  was 
lost  on  the  road.  This  umbrella  is  a  thorn  in  his  side.  At 
every  venta  where  we  stop,  the  story  is  repeated,  and  he  is  not 
sparing  of  his  maledictions.  The  ghost  of  that  umbrella  is 
continually  raised,  and  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  he  can  shut 
it.  "  One  reason  why  I  like  to  travel  with  foreign  Senors," 
said  he  to  me,  "  is,  that  when  I  lose  anything,  they  never  make 
me  pay  for  it."  "  For  all  that,"  I  answered,  "  take  care  you 
don't  lose  ray  umbrella  :  it  cost  three  dollars."  Since  then, 
nothing  can  exceed  Jose's  attention  to  that  article.  He  is  at 
bis  wit's  end  how  to  secure  it  best.  It  appears  sometimes 
before,  sometimes  behind  him,  lashed  to  the  saddle  with  innu- 
merable cords ;  now  he  sticks  it  into  the  alforja,  now  carries 
it  in  his  hand,  and  I  verily  believe  that  he  sleeps  with  it  in  hia 
arms.  Every  evening,  as  he  tells  his  story  to  the  muleteers, 
around  the  kitchen  fire,  he  always  winds  up  by  triumphantly 
appealing  to  me  with  :  "  Well,  Seiior,  have  I  lost  your  umbrella 
yet  ?" 

Our  bargain  is  that  I  shall  feed  him  on  the  way,  and  as  we 
travel  in  the  primitive  style  of  the  country,  we  always  sit  down 
together  to  the  same  dish.     To  his  supervision,  the  olla  is 


430  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

often  indebted  for  an  additional  flavor,  and  no  "thorongh-bred" 
gentleman  could  behave  at  table  with  more  ea,se  and  propriety. 
He  is  as  moderate  as  a  Bedouin  in  his  wants,  and  never  touches 
the  burning  aguardiente  which  the  muleteers  are  accustomed 
to  drink.  I  asked  him  the  reason  of  this,  "  I  drink  wine, 
Senor,"  he  replied,  "  because  that,  you  know,  is  like  meat  and 
bread  ;  but  I  have  made  a  vow  never  to  drink  aguardiente 
again.  Two  of  us  got  drunk  on  it,  four  or  five  years  ago,  in 
Granada,  and  we  quarrelled.  My  comrade  drew  his  knife  and 
stabbed  me  here,  in  the  left  shoulder.  I  was  furious  and  cut 
him  across  the  breast.  We  both  went  to  the  hospital — I  for 
three  months  and  he  for  six — and  he  died  in  a  few  days  after 
getting  out.  It  cost  my  poor  father  many  a  thousand  reals  ; 
and  when  I  was  able  to  go  to  work,  I  vowed  before  the  Virgin 
that  I  would  never  touch  aguardiente  again." 

For  the  first  league,  our  road  lay  over  the  rich  Vega  of 
Granada,  but  gradually  became  wilder  and  more  waste.  Pass- 
ing the  long,  desert  ridge,  known  as  the  "  Last  Sigh  of  the 
Moor,"  we  struck  across  a  region  of  low  hills.  The  road  was 
very  deep,  from  the  recent  rains,  and  studded,  at  short  inter- 
vals, by  rude  crosses,  erected  to  persons  who  had  been  mur- 
dered. Jose  took  a  grim  delight  in  giving  me  the  history  of 
each.  Beyond  the  village  of  Lamala,  which  lies  with  its  salt- 
pans in  a  basin  of  the  hills,  we  ascended  the  mountain  ridge 
which  forms  the  southern  boundary  of  the  Vega.  Granada, 
aearly  twenty  miles  distant,  was  still  visible.  The  Alhambra 
was  dwindled  to  a  speck,  and  I  took  my  last  view  of  it  and  the 
magnificent  landscape  which  lies  spread  out  before  it.  The 
Bierra  Nevada,  rising  to  the  height  of  13,000  feet  above  the 
sea,  was  perfectly  free  from  clouds,  and  the  whole  range  wa? 


THE    GORGE     OF     Al-HAMA.  431 

visible  at  one  glance.  All  its  chasms  were  filled  with  snow 
and  for  nearly  half-way  down  its  aides  there  was  not  a  spock 
of  any  other  color.  Its  suinraits  were  almost  wholly  devoid 
of  shadow,  and  their  notched  and  jagged  outlines  rested 
flatly  against  the  sky,  like  ivory  inlaid  on  a  table  of  lapis- 
lazuli. 

From  these  waste  hills,  we  descended  into  the  valley  of 
Cacia,  whose  poplar-fringed  river  had  been  so  swollen  by  the 
rains  that  the  correo  from  Malaga  had  only  succeeded  in  pass- 
ing it  that  morning.  We  forded  it  without  accident,  and, 
crossing  a  loftier  and  bleaker  range,  came  down  into  the  valley 
of  the  Marchan.  High  on  a  cliff  over  the  stream  stood 
Alhama,  my  resting-place  for  the  night.  The  natural  warm 
baths,  on  account  of  which  this  spot  was  so  beloved  by  the 
Moors,  are  still  resorted  to  in  the  summer.  They  lie  in  the 
bosom  of  a  deep  and  rugged  gorge,  half  a  mile  further  down 
the  river.  The  town  occupies  the  crest  of  a  narrow  promon- 
tory, bounded,  on  all  sides  but  one,  by  tremendous  precipices. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  spots  imaginable,  and 
reminded  me — to  continue  the  comparison  between  Syria  and 
Andalusia,  which  I  find  so  striking — of  the  gorge  of  the  Bar- 
rada,  near  Damascus.  Alhama  is  now  a  poor,  insignificant 
town,  only  visited  by  artists  and  muleteers.  The  population 
wear  long  brown  cloaks  and  slouched  hats,  like  the  natives  of 
La  Mancha. 

I  found  tolerable  quarters  in  a  house  on  the  plaza,  and  took 
the  remaining  hour  of  daylight  to  view  the  town.  The  peoj)le 
looked  at  me  ivith  curiosity,  and  some  boys,  walking  on  the 
edge  of  the  tajo,  or  precipice,  threw  over  stones  that  I  might 
«ee  how  deep  it  was.     The  rock,  in  some  places,  quite  over- 


432  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

hang  thfc  ^ed  of  the  Marchan,  which  half-girdles  its  base.  The 
close  scru  iny  to  which  I  was  subjected  by  the  crowd  ia  the 
plaza  called  to  mind  all  I  had  heard  of  Spanish  spies  and  rob 
bers.  At  the  venta,  I  was  well  treated,  but  received  such  an 
'exorbitant  bill  in  the  morning  that  I  was  ready  to  exclaim, 
with  King  Boabdil,  "  Woe  is  me,  Alhama  1"  Ou  comparing 
notes  with  Jose,  I  found  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  pay,  in 
addition,  for  what  he  received — a  discovery  which  so  exaspe- 
rated that  worthy  that  he  folded  his  hands,  bowed  his  head, 
made  three  kisses  in  the  air,  and  cried  out :  "  I  swear  before 
the  Virgin  that  I  will  never  again  take  a  traveller  to  that 
inn." 

We  left  Alhama  an  hour  before  daybreak,  for  we  had  a 
rough  journey  of  more  than  forty  miles  before  us.  The  bridle- 
path was  barely  visible  in  the  darkness,  but  we  continued 
ascending  to  a  height  of  probably  5,000  feet  above  the  sea, 
and  thus  met  the  sunrise  half-way.  Crossing  the  llano  of  Ace 
faraya,  we  reached  a  tremendous  natural  portal  in  the  moun 
tains,  from  whence,  as  from  a  door,  we  looked  down  on  all  the 
country  lying  between  us  and  the  sea.  The  valley  of  the 
River  Velez,  winding  among  the  hills,  pointed  out  the  course 
of  our  road.  On  the  left  towered  over  us  the  barren  Sierra 
Tejeda,  an  isolated  group  of  peaks,  about  8,000  feet  in  height. 
For  miles,  tlie  road  was  a  rocky  ladder,  which  we  scrambled 
down  on  foot,  leading  our  horses.  The  vegetation  gradually 
became  of  a  warmer  and  more  luxuriant  cast  ;  the  southern 
slopes  were  planted  with  the  vine  that  produces  the  famou? 
Malaga  raisins,  and  the  orange  groves  in  the  sunny  depths  of 
the  valleys  were  as  yellow  as  autumnal  beeches,  with  their 
enormous  loads  of  fruit.     As  the  bells  of  Veloz  Malaga  were 


TUR     INN     AT     VELEZ     MALAGA.  433 

ringing  noon,  we  emerged  from  the  mountains,  near  the  month 
of  the  river,  and  rode  into  the  town  to  breakfast. 

We  halted  at  a  queer  old  inn,  more  like  a  Turkish  khan 
than  a  Christian  hostlery.  It  was  kept  by  a  fat  landlady,  who 
made  us  an  olla  of  kid  and  garlic,  which,  with  some  coarse 
bread  and  the  red  Malaga  wiue,  soon  took  off  the  sharp  edge 
of  our  mountain  appetites.  While  I  was  washing  my  hands 
at  a  well  in  the  court-yard,  the  mozo  noticed  the  pilgrim-seal 
of  Jerusalem,  which  is  stamped  indelibly  on  my  left  arm.  His 
admiration  and  reverence  were  so  great  that  he  called  the  fat 
landlady,  who,  on  learning  that  it  had  been  made  in  Jerusalem, 
and  that  I  had  visited  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  summoned  her  chil- 
dren to  see  it.  "  Here,  my  children  1"  she  said  ;  "  cross  your- 
selves,  kneel  down,  and  kiss  this  holy  seal ;  for,  as  long  as  you 
live,  you  may  never  see  the  like  of  it  again."  Thus  I,  a  Pro- 
testant heretic,  became  a  Catholic  shrine.  The  children  knelt 
and  kissed  my  arm  with  touching  simplicity  ;  and  the  seal  will 
henceforth  be  more  sacred  to  me  than  ever. 

The  remaining  twenty  miles  or  more  of  the  road  to  Malaga 
follow  the  line  of  the  coast,  passing  headlands  crowned  by  the 
atalayas,  or  watch-towers,  of  the  Moors.  It  is  a  new  road,  and 
practicable  for  carriages,  so  that,  for  Spain,  it  may  be  con- 
sidered an  important  achievement.  The  late  rains  have,  how- 
ever, already  undermined  it  in  a  number  of  places.  Here,  as 
among  the  mountains,  we  met  crowds  of  muleteers,  all  of  whom 
greeted  me  with:  "Vaya  usted  con  Dios,  caballerol" — ("May 
you  go  with  God,  cavalier  1")  By  this  time,  all  my  forgotten 
Spanish  had  come  back  again,  and  a  little  experience  of  tlio 
simple  ways  of  the  people  made  me  quite  at  home  among  them. 
lu  almost  every  instance,  I  was  treated  precisely  as  a  Spaniard 

1» 


434  THE     LANDS     OF     THE     SARACE.V. 

would  have  been,  and  less  annoyed  by  the  curiosity  of  the 
natives  than  I  have  been  in  Germany,  and  even  America. 

We  were  still  two  leagues  from  Malaga,  at  sunset.  Tlie 
fishermen  along  the  coast  were  hauling  in  their  nets,  and  we 
soon  began  to  overtake  companies  of  them,  carrying  their  fish 
to  the  city  on  donkeys.  One  stout,  strapping  fellow,  with 
flesh  as  hard  and  yellow  as  a  sturgeon's,  was  seated  sideways 
on  a  very  small  donkey,  between  two  immense  panniers  of  fish. 
As  he  trotted  before  us,  shouting,  and  slapping  the  flanks  of 
the  sturdy  little  beast,  Jose  and  I  began  to  laugh,  whereupon 
the  fellow  broke  out  into  the  following  monologue,  addressed 
to  the  donkey  :  "Who  laughs  at  this  burrico '?  Who  says  he's 
not  fine  gold  from  head  to  foot  ?  What  is  it  that  he  can't  do  ? 
If  there  was  a  mountain  ever  so  high,  he  would  gallop  over  it. 
If  there  was  a  river  ever  so  deep,  he  would  swim  through  it. 
If  he  could  but  speak,  I  might  send  him  to  market  alone  with 
the  Ssh,  and  not  a  chavo  of  the  money  would  he  spend  on  the 
way  home.  Who  says  he  can't  go  as  far  as  that  limping 
horse  ?     Arrrre,  burrico  1  punate — ar-r-r-r-r-e-e  !" 

We  reached  Malaga,  at  last,  our  horses  sorely  fagged.  At 
the  Fonda  de  la  Alameda,  a  new  and  very  elegant  hotel,  I 
found  a  bath  and  a  good  dinner,  both  welcome  things  to  a  tired 
traveller.  The  winter  of  Malaga  is  like  spring  in  other  lands 
and  on  that  account  it  is  much  visited  by  invalids,  especially 
English.  It  is  a  lively  commercial  town  of  about  80,000 
inhabitants,  and,  if  the  present  scheme  of  railroad  communica- 
tion with  Madrid  is  carried  out,  must  continue  to  increase  in 
size  and  importance.  A  number  of  manufacturing  establishments 
have  lately  l^een  started,  and  in  this  department  it  bids  fair  to 
rival   Barcelona.      The   harbor  is  small,   but  good,   and   the 


LEAVING    MALAGA.  435 

country  aroacd  rich  in  all  the  productions  of  temperate  and 
even  tropical  climates.  The  city  contains  little  to  interest  the 
tourist.  I  visited  tlie  Cathedral,  an  immense  unfinished  mass, 
without  a  particle  of  architectural  taste  outwardly,  though  the 
interior  has  a  fine  effect  from  its  large  dimensions. 

At  noon  to-day,  we  were  again  in  the  saddle,  and  took  the 
road  to  the  Batlis  of  Caratraca.  The  tall  factory  chimneys  of 
Malaga,  vomiting  forth  streams  of  black  smoke,  marred  the 
serenity  of  the  sky ;  but  the  distaut  view  of  the  city  is  very 
fine.  The  broad  Vega,  watered  by  the  Guadaljorce,  is  rich  and 
well  cultivated,  and  uow  rejoices  in  the  verdure  of  spring. 
The  meadows  arc  clothed  with  fresh  grass,  butter-cnps  and 
daisies  are  in  blossom,  and  larks  sing  in  the  olive-trees.  Kow 
and  then,  we  passed  a  casa  del  campo,  with  its  front  half  buried 
in  orange-trees,  over  which  towered  two  or  three  sentinel 
palms.  After  two  leagues  o^  this  delightful  travel,  the  coun- 
try became  more  hilly,  ana  the  groups  of  mountains  which 
inclosed  us  assumed  the  n?ost  picturesque  and  enchanting 
forms.  The  soft  haze  in  which  the  distant  peaks  were  bathed, 
the  lovely  violet  shadows  filling  up  their  chasms  and  gorges, 
and  the  fresh  meadows,  vineyards,  and  olive  groves  below, 
made  tlie  landscape  one  of  the  most  beautiful  I  have  seen  in 
Spain 

As  we  were  trotting  along  through  the  palmetto  thickets, 
Jose  asked  me  if  I  should  not  like  to  hear  an  Andalusian  story. 
"Xoiliing  would  please  me  better,"  I  replied.  "Ride  close 
beside  me,  then,"  said  he,  "  that  you  may  understand  every 
word  of  it."  I  complied,  and  he  gave  me  the  following,  just 
as  1  repeat  it :  "  There  was  once  a  very  rich  man,  who  had 
thousands  of  cattle  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  hundreds  of 


436  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN 

Iioas(  s  in  the  city.  Well :  this  man  put  a  plate,  with  his  name 
on  it,  on  the  door  of  the  great  house  in  which  he  hved,  and 
the  name  was  this  :  Don  Pedro,  without  Fear  and  without 
Care.  Now,  when  the  King  was  making  his  paseo,  he  hap- 
pened to  ride  by  this  house  in  his  carriage,  and  saw  the  plate 
on  the  door.  *  Read  me  the  name  on  that  plate  I'  said  he  to 
his  officer.  Then  the  officer  read  the  name  :  Don  Pedro,  with- 
out Fear  and  without  Care.  '  I  will  see  whether  Don  Pedro 
is  without  Fear  and  without  Care,'  said  the  King.  The  next 
day  came  a  messenger  to  the  house,  and,  when  he  saw  Don 
Pedro,  said  he  to  him  ;  '  Don  Pedro,  without  Fear  and  without 
Care,  the  King  wants  you  1'  '  What  does  the  King  want  with 
me  V  said  Don  Pedro.  '  He  sends  you  four  questions  which 
you  must  answer  within  four  days,  or  he  will  have  you  shot  ; 
and  the  questions  are  : — How  can  the  Sierra  Nevada  be  cleared 
of  snow  ?  How  can  the  sea  be  made  smaller  ?  How  many 
arrobas  does  the  moon  weigh  ?  And  :  How  many  leagues 
from  here  to  the  Land  of  Heavenly  Glory  V  Then  Don  Pedro 
without  Fear  and  without  Care  began  to  sweat  from  fright, 
and  knew  not  what  he  should  do.  He  called  some  of  his  arrie- 
ros  and  loaded  twenty  mules  with  money,  and  went  up  into  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  where  his  herdsmej  tended  his  flocks  ;  for,  as 
I  said,  he  had  many  thousand  cattle.  '  God  keep  you,  my 
master  1'  said  the  chief  herdsman,  who  was  young,  and  buen 
mozo,  and  had  as  good  a  head  as  ever  was  set  on  two  shoulders. 
'Anda,  kombre!'  said  Don  Pedro,  '  I  am  a  dead  man  ;'  and  so  he 
told  the  herdsman  all  that  the  King  had  said.  '  Oh,  is  that 
all  V  said  the  knowing  mozo,  '  I  can  get  you  out  of  the 
scrape.  Let  me  go  and  answer  the  questions  in  your  name,  my 
umeter  1'     '  ^  h,  you  fool  I  what  can  you  do  V  said  Don  Pedro 


DON    rKDRO    WITHOUT    KHAR    AND    WnUOUT    CAKE.  -lu" 

without  Fear  and  witliout  Care,   tliruwing  hiriisclf  upon   tlio 
earth,  and  ready  to  die. 

"  But,  nevertheless,  the  herdsman  dressed  himself  up  as  a 
caboUero,  went  down  to  the  city,  and,  on  the  fourth  day,  pro- 
sontod  himself  at  the  King's  palace.  '  What  do  you  want  V 
Baid  the  officers.  '  I  am  Don  Pedro  without  Fear  and  without 
Care,  come  to  answer  the  questions  which  the  King  sent  to  me.' 
*WeII,'  said  the  King,  when  he  was  brought  before  him,  'let 
me  hear  your  answers,  or  I  will  have  you  shot  this  day.' 
'  Your  Majesty,'  said  the  herdsman,  '  I  think  I  can  do  it.  If 
you  v\  ere  to  set  a  million  of  children  to  playing  among  the 
snow  ot  the  Sierra  Nevada,  they  would  soon  clear  it  all  away  ; 
and  if  you  were  to  dig  a  ditch  as  wide  and  as  deep  as  all 
Spain,  you  would  make  the  sea  that  much  smaller.'  '  But,' 
said  the  King,  '  that  makes  only  two  questions  ;  there  are  two 
more  yet.'  '  I  think  I  can  answer  those,  also,'  said  the  herds- 
man :  '  the  moon  contains  four  quarters,  and  therefore  weighs 
only  cue  arroba  ;  and  as  for  the  last  question,  it  is  not  even  a 
single  league  to  the  Land  of  Heavenly  Glory — for,  if  your 
Majesty  were  to  die  after  breakfast,  you  would  get  there  before 
you  had  an  appetite  for  dinner.'  '  Well  done  1'  said  the  King  ; 
and  he  then  made  him  Count,  and  Marquez,  and  I  don't  know 
how  many  other  titles.  In  the  meantime,  Don  Pedro  without 
Fear  and  without  Care  had  died  of  his  frigiit ;  and,  as  he  left 
no  family,  the  herdsman  took  possession  of  all  his  estates,  and, 
until  the  day  of  his  death,  was  called  Don  Pedro  without  Fear 
and  without  Care  " 

I  write,  sitting  by  the  grated  window  of  this  lonely  inn, 
lookina;  out  on  the  meadows  of  the  Guadaljorce.  The  chaio 
jd  mouutains  which  rises  to  the  west  of  Malaga  is  purpled  bj 


438  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

the  liofht  of  tlie  settinor  sun,  and  the  houses  and  Castle  of  Car 
tama  hang  on  its  side,  in  full  view.  Further  to  the  riglit,  I  see 
the  smoke  of  Monda,  where  one  of  the  greatest  battles  of  anti- 
quity was  fought — that  which  overthrew  the  sons  of  Pompey, 
and  gave  the  Pioman  Empire  to  Caesar.  The  mozo  of  tht 
venta  is  busy,  preparing  ray  kid  and  rice,  and  Jose  is  at  his 
elbow,  gently  suggesting  ingredients  which  may  give  the  dish 
a  richer  flavor.  The  landscape  is  softened  by  the  hush  of 
coming  evening ;  a  few  birds  are  still  twittering  among  the 
bushes,  and  tlie  half-moon  grows  whiter  and  clearer  in  mid- 
bBaven.  The  people  about  me  are  humble,  but  appear  he  nest 
and  peaceful,  and  nothing  indicates  that  I  am  in  the  wi'd  Ser- 
rania  de  Honda,  the  country  of  robbers,  ccutrabandisLoa,  and 


ORANGE     VALLEYS.  439 


CnAPTER    XXXVII. 

THE     MOUNTAINS     OF     RONDA. 

Orange  VaU-'j-s  —Climbing  the  Mountains— Jos6'3  Hospitality— El  Burgo — The  Qite  cf 
th.e  Wind— Tie  Cliff  and  Cascades  of  Ronda^The  Mountain  Region— Traces  of  th* 
Moors — Ilaunts  of  Robber« — A  Stormy  Ride — The  Inn  at  Gaucin — Bad  News--A 
Boyish  Auxiliary — Descent  from  the  Mountains— The  Ford  of  the  Guadiaro — Cm 
Fears  Relieved- The  Cork  Woods— Ride  from  San  Roque  to  Gibraltar— Parting  wilh 
Jo86 — Travelling  in  Spain — Conclusion. 

Gibraltar,  Thursday,  Kovemher  25, 1352. 

I  PASSED  an  uncomfortable  night  at  the  Yenta  de  Villalon, 
lying  upon  a  bag  stuffed  with  equal  quantities  of  wool  and 
fleas.  Starting  before  dawn,  we  followed  a  path  which  led 
into  the  mountains,  >vhere  herdsmen  and  boys  were  taking  out 
their  sheep  and  goats  to  pasture  ;  then  it  descended  into  the 
valley  of  a  stream,  bordered  with  rich  bottom-lands.  I  never 
Raw  the  orange  in  a  more  flourishing  state.  We  passed  several 
orchards  of  trees  thirty  feet  high,  and  every  bough  and  twig 
BO  completely  laden  with  fruit,  that  the  foliage  was  hardly  to 
be  seen. 

At  the  Yenta  del  Yicario,  we  found  a  number  of  soldiers 
just  setting  out  for  Ronda.  They  appeared  to  be  escorting  a 
convoy  of  goods,  for  there  were  twenty  or  thirty  laden  luides 
gathered  at  the  door.  We  now  ascended  a  most  difEcult  and 
Btouy  path,  winding  through  bleak  wastes  of  gray  rock,  till  wc 


4:40  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     6ARACETT 

readied  a  lofty  pass  iu  the  mountain  range.  The  wind  swept 
through  the  narrow  gateway  with  a  iorce  that  almost  unhorsed 
us.  From  the  other  side,  a  sublime  but  most  desolate  land- 
Bcape  opened  to  my  view.  Opposite,  at  ten  miles'  distance, 
rose  a  lofty  ridge  of  naked  rock,  overhung  with  clouds.  The 
country  between  was  a  chaotic  jumble  of  stony  hills,  separated 
by  deep  chasms,  with  just  a  green  patch  here  and  there,  to 
show  that  it  was  not  entirely  forsaken  by  man.  Nevertheless 
as  we  descended  into  it,  we  found  valleys  with  vineyards  and 
olive  groves,  which  were  invisible  from  above.  As  we  were  both 
getting  hungry,  Jose  stopped  at  a  ventorillo  and  ordered  two 
cups  of  wine,  for  which  he  insisted  on  paying.  "  If  I  had  as 
many  horses  as  my  master.  Napoleon,"  said  he,  "I  would 
regale  the  Senors  whenever  I  travelled  with  them.  I  would 
have  puros,  and  sweetmeats,  with  plenty  of  Malaga  or  Valde 
pefias  in  the  bota,  and  they  should  never  complain  of  their 
fare."  Part  of  our  road  was  studded  with  gray  cork-trees,  at 
a  distance  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  olives,  and  Jose  dis- 
mounted to  gather  the  mast,  whicii  was  as  sweet  and  palatable 
as  chestnuts,  with  very  little  of  the  bitter  quercine  flavor.  At 
eleven  o'clock,  we  reached  El  Burgo,  so  called,  probably,  from 
its  ancient  Moorish  fortress.  It  is  a  poor,  starved  village, 
built  on  a  barren  hill,  over  a  stream  which  is  still  spanned 
by  a  lofty  Moorish  bridge  of  a  single  arch. 

The  remaining  three  leagues  to  Ronda  were  exceedingly 
rcngh  a.id  difficult  Climbing  a  barren  ascent  of  nearly  a 
league  in  length,  we  reached  the  Puerto  del  Viento,  or  Gate  of 
the  Wind,  through  which  drove  such  a  current  that  we  were 
obliged  to  dismount ;  and  even  then  it  required  all  ray  strength 
to  mo^e  against  it.     The  peaks  around,  far  and  near,  faced 


TUE     CfUSM     OF     RONDA.  HI 

with  precipitous  cliffs,  wore  the  most  savage  and  forf)iiJ(liiip 
Bfipect :  in  fact,  this  regiou  is  almost  a  counterpart  of  the 
wilderness  lying  between  Jerusalem  and  the  Dead  Sea,  Very 
Boon,  we  touched  the  skirt  of  a  cloud,  and  were  enveloped  ir 
masses  of  chill,  whirling  vapor,  through  wliich  we  travelled  for 
three  or  four  miles  to  a  similar  gate  on  the  western  side  of  the 
chain.  Descending  again,  we  emerged  into  a  clearer  atmo- 
sphere, and  saw  below  us  a  wide  extent  of  mountain  country, 
but  of  a  more  fertile  and  cheerful  character.  Olive  orchards 
and  wheat-fields  now  appeared  ;  and,  at  four  o'clock,  we  rode 
into  the  streets  of  Ronda. 

No  town  can  surpass  this  in  the  grandeur  and  picturesque- 
ncss  of  its  position.  It  is  built  on  the  edge  of  a  broad  shelf 
of  the  mountains,  which  falls  away  in  a  sheer  preci})ice  of  from 
six  to  eight  hundred  feet  in  height,  and,  from  the  windows  of 
many  of  the  houses  you  can  look  down  the  dizzy  abyss.  This 
shelf,  again,  is  divided  in  the  centre  by  a  tremendous  chasm, 
three  hundred  feet  wide,  and  from  four  to  six  hundred  feet  in 
depth,  in  the  bed  of  which  roars  the  Guadalvin,  boiling  in  foam- 
ing whirlpools  or  lca|)ing  in  sparkling  cascades,  till  it  reaches  the 
valley  below.  The  town  lies  on  both  sides  of  the  chasm,  which 
is  spanned  by  a  stone  bridge  of  a  single  arch,  with  abutments 
nearly  four  hundred  feet  in  height.  The  view  of  this  wonder- 
ful cleft,  either  from  above  or  below,  is  one  of  the  finest  of  its 
kind  in  the  world.  Ronda  is  as  far  superior  to  Tivoli,  as  Tivob 
is  to  a  Dutch  village,  on  the  dead  levels  of  Holland.  The 
panorama  which  it  commands  is  on  the  grandest  scale.  The 
valley  below  is  a  garden  of  fruit  and  vines  ;  bold  yet  cultivated 
hills  succeed,  and  in  the  distance  rise  the  lofty  summits  of 
another  chain  of  the  Serrania  de  Ronda.     Were  these  subline 

19* 


442  TOE     LANDS     OP    THK     SARACEN 

rliffs,  these  charming  cascades  of  the  Guadalvin,  and  this  daring 
bridge,  in  Italy  instead  of  in  Spain,  they  would  be  sketched 
and  painted  every  day  in  the  year  ;  but  I  have  yet  to  kno\« 
whoi'e  a  good  picture  of  Ronda  may  be  found 

In  the  bottom  of  the  chasm  are  a  number  of  corn-mills  aa 
old  as  the  time  of  the  Moors.  The  water,  gushing  out  from 
the  arches  of  one,  drives  the  wheel  of  that  below,  so  that  a 
single  race  supplies  them  all,  I  descended  by  a  very  steep  zig 
zag  path  nearly  to  the  bottom.  On  a  little  point  or  promon- 
tory overhanging  the  black  depths,  there  is  a  Moorish  gateway 
still  standing.  The  sunset  threw  a  lovely  glow  over  the  brown 
cliffs  and  the  airy  town  above  ;  but  they  were  far  grander  when 
the  cascades  glittered  in  the  moonlight,  and  the  gulf  oui  of 
which  they  leap  was  lost  in  profound  shadow.  The  window 
of  my  bed-room  hung  over  the  chasm. 

Ronda  was  wrapped  in  fog,  when  Jose  awoke  me  on  the 
morning  of  the  22d.  As  we  had  but  about  twenty-four  miles  to 
ride  that  day,  we  did  not  leave  until  sunrise.  We  rode  acrosa 
the  bridge,  through  the  old  town  and  down  the  hill,  passing 
the  triple  lines  of  the  Moorish  walls  by  the  original  gateways. 
The  road,  stony  and  rugged  beyond  measure,  now  took  to  the 
mountains.  From  the  opposite  height,  there  was  a  fine  view 
of  the  town,  perched  like  an  eagle's  nest  on  the  verge  of  ita 
tremendous  cliffs  ;  but  a  curtain  of  rain  soon  fell  before  it,  and 
the  dense  dark  clouds  settled  around  us,  and  filled  up  the 
gorges  on  either  hand.  Hour  after  hour,  we  toiled  along  the 
slippery  paths,  scaling  the  high  ridges  by  rocky  ladders,  up 
which  our  horses  climbed  with  the  greatest  difficulty.  The 
scenery,  whenever  I  could  obtain  a  misty  glimpse  of  it,  waa 
Bublime.     Lofty  mountain  ridges  rose  on  either  hand  ;  bkalc. 


TRAVELUNG     IN    A     STORM.  iii 

jagged  summits  of  naked  rock  pierced  the  clouds,  and  the  deep 
cliasms  which  separated  thera  sank  far  below  us,  dark  and 
indistinct  through  the  rain.  Sometimes  I  caught  sight  of  a 
little  hamlet,  hanging  on  some  almost  inaccessible  ledge,  the 
home  of  the  lawless,  semi-Moorish  mountaineers  wlio  inhabit 
this  wild  region.  The  faces  of  those  we  met  exhibited  marked 
traces  of  their  Moslem  ancestry,  especially  in  the  almoud- 
shaped  eye  and  the  dusky  olive  complexion.  Their  dialect 
retains  many  Oriental  forms  of  expression,  and  I  was  not  a 
little  surprised  at  finding  the  Arabic  "elwa"  (yes)  in  general 
use,  instead  of  the  Spanish  "si." 

About  eleven  o'clock,  we  reached  the  rude  village  of  Ata- 
jate,  where  we  procured  a  very  good  breakfast  of  kid,  eggs, 
and  white  Ronda  wine.  The  wind  and  rain  increased,  but  I 
had  no  time  to  lose,  as  every  hour  swelled  the  mountain  floods 
and  made  the  journey  more  difficult.  This  district  is  in  the 
worst  repute  of  any  in  Spain  ;  it  is  a  very  nest  of  robbers  and 
coutrabandistas.  At  the  vcnta  in  Atajate,  they  urged  us  to 
take  a  guard,  but  my  valiant  Joso  declared  that  he  had  never 
taken  one,  and  yet  was  never  robbed  ;  so  I  trusted  to  his  good 
luck.  The  weather,  however,  was  our  best  protection.  In 
Buch  a  driving  rain,  we  could  bid  defiance  to  the  flint  locks  of 
their  escopettes,  if,  indeed,  any  could  be  found,  so  fond  of  theii 
trade,  as  to  ply  it  in  a  storm 

"  Wherein  the  cuVdrawu  bear  would  crouch. 
The  lion  and  the  belly-pinched  wolf 
Keep  their  furs  dry." 

Nevertheless,  I  noticed  that  each  of  the  few  convoys  of  laden 
mules  which  wo  met,  had  one  or  more  of  the  gu,ardia  civil 


444  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEK. 

accompanying  it.  Besides  these,  the  only  persons  abroad  were 
Bome  wild-looking  individuals,  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  muffled 
in  long  cloaks,  towards  whom,  as  they  passed,  Jose  would  give 
his  head  a  slight  toss,  and  whisper  to  me :  "  more  contraban- 
distas." 

We  were  soon  in  a  condition  to  defy  the  weather.  The  rain 
beat  furiously  in  our  faces,  especially  when  threading  the 
wind-blown  passes  between  the  higher  peaks.  I  raised  my 
umbrella  as  a  defence,  but  the  first  blast  snapped  it  in  twain. 
The  mountain-sides  were  veined  with  rills,  roaring  downward 
into  the  hollows,  and  smaller  rills  soon  began  to  trickle  down 
my  own  sides.  During  the  last  part  of  our  way,  the  path  was 
notched  along  precipitous  steeps,  where  the  storm  was  so  thick 
that  we  could  see  nothing  either  above  or  below.  It  was  hke 
riding  along  the  outer  edge  of  the  world.  When  once  you  are 
thoroughly  wet,  it  is  a  great  satisfaction  to  know  that  you  can 
be  no  wetter  ;  and  so  Joso  and  I  went  forward  in  the  best 
possible  humor,  finding  so  much  diversion  in  our  plight  that 
the  dreary  leagues  were  considerably  shortened. 

At  the  venta  of  Gaucin,  where  we  stopped,  the  people 
received  us  kindly.  The  house  consisted  of  one  room — stable, 
kitchen,  and  dining-room  all  in  one.  Tliere  was  a  small  apart- 
ment in  a  windy  loft,  where  a  bed  (much  too  short)  was  pre- 
pared for  me.  A  fire  of  dry  heather  was  made  in  the  wide 
fire-place,  and  the  ruddy  flames,  with  a  change  of  clothing  and 
a  draught  of  the  amber  vintage  of  Estepona,  soon  thawed  out 
the  chill  of  the  journey.  But  I  received  news  which  caused 
333  a  great  deal  of  anxiety.  The  River  Guadiaro  was  so  high 
that'  nobody  could  cross,  and  two  forlorn  muleteers  had  been 
v/aiting  eight  days  at  the  inn,  for  the  waters  to  subside.    Aug 


A    BOVISn    AUXILIARY.  4|5 

menled  by  the  rain  which  hnd  fullcii,  and  wliich  seemed  to 
increase  as  night  came  on,  how  could  I  hope  to  cross  it  on  the 
morrow  ?  In  two  days,  the  India  steamer  would  be  at  Gibral- 
tar  ;  my  passa^jje  was  already  taken,  and  I  must  be  there.  The 
•matter  was  discussed  for  some  time  ;  it  was  pronounced  impos' 
Bible  to  travel  by  tlie  usual  road,  but  the  landlord  knew  a  path 
among  the  hills  which  led  to  a  ferry  on  the  Guadiaro,  where 
there  was  a  boat,  and  from  thence  we  could  make  our  way  to 
San  Roque,  which  is  in  sight  of  Gibraltar.  He  demanded 
rather  a  large  fee  for  accompanying  me,  but  there  was  nothing 
else  to  be  done.  Joso  and  I  sat  down  in  great  tribulation  to 
our  accustomed  olla,  but  neither  of  us  could  do  justice  to  it, 
and  the  greater  part  gladdened  the  landlord's  two  boys — beau- 
tiful little  imps,  with  faces  like  Murillo's  cherubs. 

Nevertheless,  I  passed  rather  a  merry  evening,  chatting  with 
some  of  the  villagers  over  a  brazier  of  coals  ;  and  one  of  the 
aforesaid  boys,  who,  although  only  eight  years  old,  already 
performed  the  duties  of  mozo,  lighted  me  to  ray  loft.  When 
he  had  put  down  the  lamp,  he  tried  the  door,  and  asked  me  r 
"Have  you  the  key?"  "Ko,"  said  I,  "I  don't  want  one  ;  I 
am  not  afraid."  "  But,"  he  rejoined,  "  perhaps  you  may  get 
afraid  in  the  night  ;  and  if  you  do,  strike  on  this  j»art  of  the 
wall  (suiting  the  action  to  the  word) — /sleep  on  tliat  side." 
I  willingly  promised  to  call  him  to  my  aid,  if  I  should  get 
alarmed.  I  slept  but  little,  for  the  wind  was  howling  around 
the  tiles  over  my  head,  and  I  was  busy  with  plans  for  con- 
Btructing  rafts  and  swimming  currents  with  a  roi)e  around  mj 
waist.  Finally,  I  found  a  little  oblivion,  but  it  seemed  tliat  1 
had  scarcely  closed  my  eyes,  when  Joso  pushed  open  tlie  door. 
'•Thanks  be  to  God,  senor  1"  said  he,  "it  begins  to   dawn 


446  THE     LANDS     OF    THE     SARACE.'f. 

and   the   sky  is   clear :  we   shall   certainly  get   tc    Gibraltar 
♦o-day." 

The  landlord  was  ready,  so  we  took  some  bread  and  a  bas- 
ket of  olives,  and  set  out  at  once.  Leaving  Gaucin,  we  cony 
menced  descending  the  mountain  staircase  by  which  the* 
Serrania  of  Ronda  is  scaled,  on  the  side  towards  Gibraltar. 
"The  road,"  says  Mr.  Ford.  "  seems  made  by  the  Evil  One  in 
a  hanging  garden  of  Eden."  After  four  miles  of  fi-ightfully 
rugged  descent,  we  reached  an  orange  grove  on  the  banks  of 
the  Xenar,  and  then  took  a  wild  path  leading  along  the  hills 
on  the  right  of  the  stream.  We  overtook  a  few  muleteers, 
who  were  tempted  out  by  the  fine  weather,  and  before  long  the 
correo,  or  mail-rider  from  Rouda  to  San  Roque,  joined  us. 
After  eight  miles  more  of  toilsome  travel  we  reached  the  val- 
ley of  the  Guadiaro.  The  river  was  not  more  than  twenty 
yards  wide,  flowing  with  a  deep,  strong  current,  between  high 
banks.  Two  ropes  were  stretched  across,  and  a  large,  clumsy 
boat  was  moored  to  the  shore.  We  called  to  the  ferrymen, 
but  they  hesitated,  saying  that  nobody  had  yet  been  able  to 
cross.  However,  we  all  got  in,  with  our  horses,  and  two  of 
the  men,  with  much  reluctance,  drew  us  over.  The  enrrent 
was  very  powerful,  although  the  river  had  fallen  a  little 
during  the  night,  but  we  reached  the  opposite  bank  without 
accident 

We  had  still  another  river,  the  Guargante,  to  pass,  bu\. 
we  were  cheered  by  some  peasants  whom  we  met,  with  the 
news  that  the  ferry-boat  had  resumed  operations.  After  this 
current  lay  behind  us,  and  there  was  now  nothing  but  firm 
land  all  the  way  to  Gibraltar,  Jose  declared  with  much 
euiucstuess  that  he  was  qui'ie  as  glad,  for  my  sake,  as  if  some 


THE     CORK-WOODS.  44  1 

body  bad  given  him  a  raillion  of  dollars.  Oar  horses,  too 
seemed  to  feel  that  somethhig  had  been  achieved,  and  showed 
sujh  a  fresh  spirit  tliat  we  loosened  the  reins  and  let  them  gal- 
lop to  their  hearts'  content  over  the  green  meadows.  Tha 
mountains  were  now  behind  us,  and  the  Moorish  castle  of 
Gaucin  crested  a  peak  blue  with  the  distance.  Over  hills 
covered  with  broom  and  heather  in  blossom,  and  throngh  hol- 
lows grown  with  oleander,  arbutus  and  the  mastic  shrub,  we 
rode  to  the  cork-wood  forests  of  San  lloque,  the  sporting- 
ground  of  Gibraltar  officers.  The  barking  of  dogs,  the  crack- 
ing of  whips,  and  now  and  then  a  distant  halloo,  announced 
that  a  hunt  was  in  progress,  and  soon  we  came  upon  a  company 
of  thirty  or  forty  horsemen,  in  caps,  white  gloves  and  top-boots, 
scattered  along  the  crest  of  a  hill.  I  had  no  desire  to  stop 
and  witness  the  sport,  for  the  Mediterranean  now  lay  before 
me,  and  the  huge  gray  mass  of  "The  Hock"  loomed  in  the 
distance. 

At  San  Roque,  which  occupies  the  summit  of  a  conical  hill, 
about  half-way  between  Gibraltar  and  Algeciras,  the  landlord 
left  us,  and  immediately  started  on  his  return.  Having  now 
exchanged  the  rugged  bridle-paths  of  Ronda  for  a  smooth 
carriage-road,  Jose  and  I  dashed  on  at  full  gallop,  to  the  end 
of  our  journey.  We  were  both  bespattered  with  mud 
from  head  to  foot,  and  our  jackets  and  sombreros  had  lost 
something  of  their  spruce  air.  We  met  a  great  many  ruddy, 
cleanly-shaven  Englishmen,  who  reined  up  on  one  side  to  let  us 
pass,  with  a  look  of  wonder  at  our  Andalasian  impudence, 
Nothing  diverted  Jose  more  than  to  see  one  of  these  English- 
men rising  in  his  stirrups,  as  ho  went  by  on  a  trot.  "  Look, 
look,  Senor  I"     he  exclaimed  ;  "  did  you  ever  see  the  like  ?*• 


443  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACEN. 

and  iLeu  broke  into  a  fresh  explosion  of  laughter.  Passing 
the  Spanish  Lines,  which  stretch  across  the  neck  of  the  sandy 
little  peninsula,  connecting  Gibraltar  with  the  main  land,  we 
rode  under  the  terrible  batteries  which  snarl  at  Spain  from 
this  side  of  the  Rock.  How  after  row  of  enormous  gun? 
bristle  the  walls,  or  look  out  from  the  galleries  liewn  in  the  sides 
of  inaccessible  cliffs  An  artificial  moat  is  cut  along  the  base  of 
the  Rock,  and  a  simple  bridge-road  leads  into  the  fortress  and 
town.  After  giving  up  my  passport  I  was  allowed  to  enter, 
Jose  having  already  obtained  a  permit  from  the  Spanish  authori- 
ties. 

I  clattered  up  the  long  street  of  the  town  to  the  Club 
House,  where  I  found  a  company  of  English  friends.  In  the 
evening,  Jose  made  his  appearance,  to  settle  our  accounts  and 
take  his  leave  of  me.  While  scrambling  down  the  rocky  stair- 
way of  Gaucin,  Jose  had  said  to  me  :  "  Look  you,  Senor,  I 
am  very  fond  of  English  beer,  and  if  I  get  you  to  Gibraltar 
to  day  you  must  give  me  a  glass  of  it."  When,  therefore,  he 
came  in  the  evening,  his  eyes  sparkled  at  the  sight  of  a  bottle 
of  Alsop's  Ale,  and  a  handful  of  good  Gibraltar  cigars 
"Ah,  Senor,"  said  he,  after  our  books  were  squared,  and  he 
had  pocketed  his  gratificacion,  "  I  am  sorry  we  are  going  to 
part ;  for  we  are  good  friends,  are  we  not,  Senor  ?"  "  Yes, 
Jose,"  said  I  ;  "  if  I  ever  come  to  Granada  again,  I  shall  take 
no  other  guide  than  Jose  Garcia  ;  and  I  will  have  you  for  a 
longer  journey  than  this.  We  shall  go  over  all  Spain  together, 
mi  amigo!"  "May  God  grant  it  I"  responded  Jose,  crossing 
himself ;  "  and  now,  Senor,  I  must  go.  I  .shall  travel  back  to 
Granada,  muy  trisle,  Senor,  muy  trisle."  The  faithful  fellows 
eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and,  as  he  lifted  my  hand  twice  ta  hia 


mAVEi.UN'G    ly   SPAIN.  4  49 

lips,  some  warm  drops  fell  upon  it.    God  bless  his  houesl  heart, 
wherever  he  g:oes  1 

And  now  a  word  as  to  travelling  in  Spain,  wbicli  is  not 
attended  with  half  the  difficulties  and  annoyances  I  had  been 
led  to  expect.  My  experience,  of  course,  is  limited  to  the 
provinces  ot  Andalusia,  but  my  route  included  some  of  the 
roughest  roads  and  most  dangerous  robber-districts  in  the 
Peninsula,  The  people  with  whom  I  came  in  contact  were 
mvariably  friendly  and  obliging,  and  I  was  dealt  with  much 
more  honestly  than  I  should  have  been  in  Italy,  "With  every 
disposition  to  serve  you,  there  is  notliing  like  servility  among 
the  Spaniards.  The  native  dignity  which  characterizes  their 
demeanor  prepossesses  me  very  strongly  in  their  favor.  There 
is  but  one  dialect  of  courtesy,  and  the  muleteers  and  common 
peasants  address  each  other  with  the  same  gi-ave  respect  as  the 
Dons  and  Grandees,  My  friend  Jose  was  a  model  of  good- 
breeding. 

I  had  little  trouble  either  with  passport-officers  or  custom- 
houses. My  passport,  in  fact,  was  never  once  demanded, 
although  I  took  the  precaution  to  have  it  vised  in  all  the  large 
cities.  In  Seville  and  Malaga,  it  was  signed  by  the  American 
Consuls,  without  the  usual  fee  ot  two  dollars — almost  the  only 
instances  which  have  come  under  my  observation.  The  regula- 
tions of  the  American  Consular  System,  which  gives  the  Con- 
suls no  salary,  but  permits  them,  instead,  to  get  their  pay  out 
of  travellers,  is  a  disgrace  to  our  government.  It  ainounts,  in 
effect,  to  c  direct  lax  on  travel,  and  falls  heavily  on  the  hun- 
dreds of  young  men  of  limited  means,  who  annually  visit 
Europe  for  the  pur[)ose  of  completing  their  education.  Every 
American  citizen  who  travels  in  Italy  pays  a  passport  tax  of 


450  THE  LANDS  OF  THE  SARACKN. 

ten  dollars.  In  all  the  ports  of  the  Mediterranean,  there  is  an 
American  Vice-Cousul,  who  does  not  even  get  the  postage  paid 
on  his  dispatches,  and  to  whom  the  advent  of  a  traveller  is  of 
course  a  welcome  sight.  Misled  by  a  false  notion  of  economy,  onr 
government  is  fast  becoming  proverbial  for  its  meanness.  If 
those  of  our  own  citizens  who  represent  us  abroad  only  worked 
as  they  are  paid,  and  if  the  foreigners  who  act  as  Vice-Consula 
without  pay  did  not  derive  some  petty  trading  advantages 
from  their  position,  we  should  be  almost  without  protection. 


"With  my  departure  from  Spain  closes  the  record  of  my 
journey  in  the  Lands  of  the  Saracen  ;  for,  although  I  after- 
wards beheld  more  perfect  types  of  Saracenic  Art  on  the  banks 
of  the  Jumna  and  the  Ganges,  they  grew  up  under  the  great 
Empire  of  the  descendants  of  Tamerlane,  and  were  the  crea- 
tions of  artists  foreign  to  the  soil.  It  would,  no  doubt,  be 
interesting  to  contrast  the  remains  of  Oriental  civilization  and 
refinement,  as  they  still  exist  at  the  extreme  eastern  and 
western  limits  of  the  Moslem  sway,  and  to  show  how  that  Art, 
which  had  its  birth  in  the  capitals  of  the  Caliphs — Damascus 
and  Baghdad — attained  its  most  perfect  development  in  Spain 
and  India  ;  but  my  visit  to  the  latter  country  connects  itself 
naturally  with  my  voyage  to  China,  Loo-Choo,  and  .Japan, 
forming  a  separate  and  distinct  field  of  travel. 

On  the  2tth  of  November,  the  Overland  Mail  Steamer 
arrived  at  Gibraltar,  and  I  embarked  in  her  for  Alexandria, 
entering  upon  another  year  of  even  more  varied,  strange,  and 
adventurous  experiences,  than  that  which  had  closed.     I  aia 


CONCLUSION.  451 

almost  afraid  to  ask  those  patient  readers,  who  have  accompa- 
ni(.d  me  thus  far,  to  travel  with  me  through  auother  voluui«  ; 
l)at  next  to  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  world,  comes  the  plea- 
sure of  teHing  of  it,  and  I  must  ueeds  finish  my  story. 


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